I watched the light dancing on the reflection of a piece of paper. A paper that read, “September 5, 2012: My 1st Day of Joy School.”
The morning was so busy, dragging myself out of bed only to pull a tired little boy from his covers to wake him. Who was I kidding? I knew I would feel like this, today. I bribed his sleepy eyes with a “special breakfast” as he slowly came to. Thoughts were racing through my head. Time had stopped for a moment as I watched him eat cereal and chocolate sprinkles. My baby boy, our firstborn, was naturally happy. His disposition could brighten anyone’s day.
I slipped on his new dinosaur flip flops, combed his hair, and thought about a day two years from now. Time won’t stop for my feelings. It will just pass on by, taking my baby with it! I can’t imagine what that day will be like. Oliver asked, “When are you going to comb your hair, Mommy?” I laughed to myself. Someday, those intelligent observations may not produce such laughter.
We traveled to daddy’s bedside for a first-day-of-school pep talk and then headed out the door. It seemed to be a moment I would want to remember and capture. After all, my mom had done it for me. I jumped like a monkey to make him smile.
At one last attempt to get some justification for how I was feeling, I squeezed him tight and explained that he and I would be parting. That for a short while, he would need to make good choices and listen to his teacher. I made sure to get on his level, talk slowly and hang on to every second of attention that was possible. He hugged me quick, reminding me that he too would slip out of my sight as fast as curiosity could carry him and I would be left waiting for him to look back. I guess I wanted him to cry, throw a fit, and demand an explanation for this, but realized that a small part of me also wanted him to show that he was ready for this and I needed to catch up. He grabbed his friend’s hand and skipped off into the distance.
As the newly risen sun danced on my dash, I thought of how busy we were this morning, but how quiet the next few hours would bring. So quiet, that I may be able to focus on my other little one. “Soon he will be out the door too.” My mind stopped me. “He is still my baby...”
And so it begins.
PS Most of the pictures were taken with my cell phone, since I left my camera with my mom. The others were taken by the talented Ms. Vanessa (one of Oliver's teachers).