Annie was up with the birds, dressed, teeth brushed, floating with delight, and wearing her gigantic purple backpack from 7 o’clock until it was Go Time. Today is the first day of school, her first day to leave her family to GO to school.
Joseph threw up all over the hallway before breakfast, but I started to sing “ain’t nothing gonna hold my stride….” and cleaned it up without batting an eyelash. (He’s fine.)
We gathered up to pray over her and with her, this helped. I took a few pictures in the living room, called over the tinies to hug and say good-bye to Annie. Joseph hugged her so hard, her ribs cracked, and Brian began to dab his eyes. I could see him thinking it was going too fast, yesterday she was a baby, now she’s off to grade 1, tomorrow, the world.
For those of you taking bets (and you know who you are….Dad…), I did not cry. I didn’t even have to make a heroic effort to compartmentalize and stuff down my feelings; I simply did not need to cry. (Besides, her dad cried enough for all of us.)
I was so excited for her, happy to see her happy, that I couldn’t bring an ounce of my own self into the equation. She ran the entire way from the drop-off lane to her classroom, found her hook for her backpack, and settled into her second-row desk. At the bell, her sweet teacher dismissed the parents, and we left. Brian and I crossed the field, hand in hand, and she was off on her adventure. I felt so proud of her fearlessness, of her confidence, and her ability to correctly identify all organs connected to digestion at a moment’s notice. We’re all so good.