Into the world of Kindergarten

Well, he went to bed without a thought. Or at least it seemed that way to me. I felt like saying- "Don't you know what tomorrow is????? It's the beginning of the rest of your adult life! Aren't you scared??!??" But no, it's just kindergarten, mom. Calm down.

I'm ashamed to say I don't do this often enough, but after he went to bed, I couldn't resist going into his room, and saying a prayer over him as he slept. I prayed for God to use his little life, to help him remember all we've tried to teach him- especially all those valuable Bible lessons he's taking into a public school, to choose God for his heart at a young age- the sooner the better. I prayed that God will always help him remember how much I love him no matter what. To give him a sense of value, no matter what other's think of him, and to remember that it's only what God thinks that matters. To protect him from hurt, and sickness and sadness. But I don't know if that last part is a good prayer. Those things grow us. But I still want to protect him.

When Martin and I went to bed, I had my good cry. I kept asking Martin if I was nuts, or over-reacting. He assured me that Moms everywhere probably go through this- the emotions. Dealing with leaving your child behind in a big brick building that represents the world. I pulled myself together enough to go to sleep, and wake up with bags under my eyes.

He woke up with bed head, as usual, but today his hair was even more "roostery" than usual. We all laughed. It was so bad, we felt it merited a "before and after" picture for the first day of school.

He got dressed, in his new green polo shirt (his favorite color), and grabbed that Superman lunch box- it has a cape. He's excited about that new lunch box, but I can tell he's already worried what the other kids will think. He's waffled over the choice. He said at breakfast, "Mommy, my tummy feels funny." I tried to explain about butterflies. He said it again on the way up the steps to the school, and I tried to assure him he'd be fine.

He was, too. He jumped right in- ready to go. I walked back to the car, pushing Coen in his stroller, all too aware that it would be his turn before I know it. Another lump in my throat. As I walked, a peace surrounded me. I'll be okay. As long I don't think about it too much.