1st Grade

 

First day of first grade...it's these doggone "firsts" that get me everytime.

 

David went in late to work this morning so he could walk her to school with us. (And so he could make corny jokes to keep my mind off the fact that our little girl is growing up).

 

I actually did really well.

I didn't tear up when she came to show me how she looked in her new outfit.

I didn't tear up when I helped her shrug into her backpack.

I didn't tear up when I had to take her backpack off and adjust the straps as small as they could go.

In fact, we were almost to the school when I realized there was nary a lump in my throat and the bridge of my nose wasn't beginning to burn which would be a telltale sign that tears were on their way.

I walked her to her little desk, snapped one last picture, kissed her and told her I loved her, then headed out the classroom door. Almost home free.

But who should be waiting at the classroom door? The mother of a little girl who was in Reese's Kindergarten class last year.

We smiled and greeted each other. And that was when Operation: Drop Off with Dry Eyes began it's downward spiral.

She said sweetly, "Well, this is going much better than last year...isn't it?". Her uncertain tone gave away the fact that she was trying to convince herself, as well as me. And that's when I noticed the red rims of her eyes.

And that's when my tears began to fall.

We scooted quickly out of the school. Passing a few other parents we knew along the way. Whom I wasn't even able to greet properly and whom all said, "Awwwwwww..." which never helps a crying person pull themselves together...in fact, it has the opposite effect.

The good thing is that today was only a half day. So I was able to go get her at 11:30.

Tomorrow is her first full day. And I know the afternoon is going to feel strangely quiet without her.