Here I sit, the night before I send my baby girl to Kindergarten, expecting no emotions at all yet having so many. You've done this. You've been to 5-day a week pre-school at a big school, met friends, a new teacher, ate lunch in the gym - and loved it all. You'd think having been here last year that I would have peace of what is to come in the morning. Somehow, the peace I'm longing for escapes me. I can act tough and say I'm hurting because you are hurting. Sad because you are sad. Nervous because you are nervous. "If she would walk in and wave and say, 'Bye Mom!' I would be fine," I say. But the truth is that if you walked in that door without looking back, I'd be just as sad that you have grown up (right before my eyes, I may add) as I will be tomorrow, when you huddle behind my legs and raise your fists to cover your eyes, fighting back the tears. I'll be fighting back the tears as well, baby girl, but I'll try to be strong, for you.
(photos from back-to-school night)
The thing is, I know you'll be okay. I know you'll love your teacher and come out of this a social little butterfly. I know that you will end this year as whole different kid, for the better. You'll end your year with a plethora of knowledge and budding new friendships. I know that the lunchroom won't hurt you, that I'll always be there at 3:15 to pick you up, take you home, and resume our beautiful life as a family of three. But you don't. You are scared of the unknown and for one of the first times in your life, Mommy and Daddy won't be there to protect you. All I can tell you is that it will be okay, you are going to love it, and you've got this little one. Words wont be enough in the morning but with one last hug, tears in our eyes, and broken hearts, we will send you on your way. Fly away little girl, you've got this.