“Well okay!” I said, proud to entwine my fingers in hers all while wondering how long it would be before she swatted me away in embarrassment.
The answer? Six steps.
Just outside our front door, we ran into a new classmate of hers and Thalia broke away from me to hold her hand on the walk instead.
The perfect metaphor for four – not a little girl, not yet a kindergartener.
Today begins her very first full OMG I have to pack lunches God help us full day at school. Or as Nate calls it, “sending our daughter away for someone else to raise her.” (Um…) Don’t let his gruff, cynical exterior fool you, the guy’s a softie through and through.
Thalia’s changed so enormously since last year’s first day of school, that when I look at that picture I can hardly believe it. But ironically, I haven’t changed a bit.
“I’m sorry, I forgot the photo for her cubby,” I told her teacher as we hung up Thalia’s big girl backpack. “And the allergy form. And the medical form.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” she said kindly. “Just bring it tomorrow.”
“We’ll, I’ll try. But I’m warning you now – I’m That Mom, the one you’ll have to remind six times.”
She laughed. Bless her.
I needed the laugh. Because when I turned to say goodbye to Thalia, she was already gone.