Hard to believe, right?
This year, he was excited to go back to school. Excited to see his friends. We didn't have any tears at all. Just a relaxing morning and walk to the bus stop. Such a change from that first day of kindergarten two years ago! Remember that?
After I waved goodbye as the bus pulled away, I drove to school to meet him there. I didn't want him to have to navigate the bus with his backpack and a large shopping bag filled with paper towels, tissues, and disinfectant wipes (yeah, in private school we have to stock the school with the odds and ends too).
I stood there for about 30 minutes waiting for the bus to pull in, and while I was meandering I saw about 7 buses drop off kids. The first kids to step off are always the youngest (the bus drivers here are very good about putting them in front). Two kindergartners walked off in tears. They looked terrifed and scared.
My heart broke, and I think I cried just as much as their moms (secretly, behind my big sunglasses as to not look like a jackass). For kids who aren't even mine! That's a bit tragic that I am wired that way.
By the time David's bus arrived, I was missing him already.
And then he broke my heart.
He ran right past me into the building with his friend and with a sideway glance, said... "MOM, you don't have to follow me."
I followed behind him anyway (ok, the bag WAS the only thing that stopped him and I MAY HAVE slowly handed it off to him on purpose).
Barely got the chance to snap a quick picture of him scurrying down the hall to his new room.
No looking back.
