My kids officially go to preschool. Their first day wasn't terribly sentimental for me. They only go one day a week, and I'm happy for them to spend a few hours in a school setting while I spend a few hours in my makeshift office actually working without interruption.
But what does pull at my momma heart strings is that their first day of preschool was a step toward the years and years and years that my babies will spend with their teachers and classmates and not with me. Sending my babies to school requires me to let go, a healthy and natural transition that began when my husband clipped the cord, a transition that will ultimately culminate when my flock flee the nest.
I suppose this is one of those transitions that will prepare me for the next one. And I am grateful that God gently eases me into the next phases of parenthood even though I am never prepared.
So here they are, two tiny people lugging around an absurd amount of backpack, heading out for the first day of the rest of their lives.
And here I am. One grateful momma, lugging around an absurd amount of love for two tiny people who are learning about life independent of me. Letting go ain't easy, but it sure makes me proud to see them learn to fly.