The story of her first day of kindergarten, and mine.

Here she is in all her morning glory. I won't say she bounded out of bed before me, but when I woke her at 7:30 she was raring to go after a few yawns and stretches.Her morning routine goes something like this: potty, brush hair, make bed, get dressed, eat, brush teeth, shoes, bus. Daddy was on hand to send her off at the bus this morning. (Who am I kidding, Daddy was on hand for moral support after the send-off this morning.)

I kept busy all morning, readying things, straightening, pictures, busy busy busy. I was okay until this moment. Until I could hear the bus coming for her, and then see it down the street and I knew she was next and I knew it would be quick. And then I thought, Oh God I'm not ready and my throat lumped up. 8:45am.
It was quick. Ron had to remind her to turn around for one last picture.

Then one last kiss (I didn't even get one then, good thing I got mine at home!) and she was ready. More than ready. Her friend Cody was already waiting on the bus.

She didn't even look back.

And then she was gone.

Fisher and I went for a run, came home and made her a bus picture and cookies.

And, I have to admit, it went much faster than I thought it would. 12:25 rolled around and Fisher and I found ourselves waiting out in the grass, the sun having made an appearance.

When she got off the bus I felt flooded with happiness, relief, joy, just so glad to have my baby back in my arms.

I was not the only one. The two of us pretty much tackled her, but then I had to step back and see how much he really missed his big sister. I missed you, Awa, he said. He squeezed her, took her hand and led her into the house and they had a blissful hour before his nap.

At some point this afternoon I realized what an emotional day this was and thought, I cannot do this again tomorrow, but of course we have to, and surely I'll get used to it.