Last Thursday was the first day of pre-k for Caleb & McKenna. They were super-excited and ready to go to school! Our school supplies and backpacks had been purchased in July, our first day of school outfits and new shoes were laid out the night before. And as the day drew near, my anxiety increased. This seemed a little odd to me since our children go to an in-home daycare 3 days a week, and have done so since they were 2 years old. But, school seemed different somehow. I think it was more of a defining moment in their lives more than the fact they would not be at home with me all day.

There will be some changes. No more mornings in which I can just have the kids crawl into bed with me and watch Curious George, while I catch a few more minutes of sleep. No more spur of the moment field trips for the day. No more staying in pajamas for 4 hours if we don't want to change clothes. School is definitely a life-changing and schedule-changing event. I realize it's 'just pre-k.' The kids are gone for all of 2 hours and 40 minutes, then I pick them up and we resume our day at 10:50am. It's just the thought that this is the first year, which will be followed by ONLY 12 more years before my children are young adults, going off to college!! I know I'm jumping way ahead of myself, but see where the thoughts start going...

As it turns out, the first day of pre-k is not all that bad, mostly because it is also parent orientation. So, day 2 is really the test. Here's a recount of the day's events. Day 2 of pre-k: I drive to the school, park, and walk the kids into the school building, up the stairs and down the long hallway to their pre-k classrooms. Caleb is first; he hangs up his backpack, walks to the door of his room and is halfway inside the room when I ask, "Can I have a hug and kiss?" He obliges, proceeds to remind the teacher of his name, takes his nametage, then disappears into the group of children sitting on the floor.

McKenna is next; she hangs up her backpack, walks into the classroom, sits down in a chair, picks up one of the books on the table and proceeds to "read." Again, I have to ask, "Can I have a hug and a kiss?" She delivers the request, then returns to her book. At that moment, I realized how independent they had become. I peaked into each room, one more time, just to make sure they are okay; they are. Then, with tear-filled eyes, I walk back down the LONG hallway, down the stairs, down another hallway and out the door of the school. The long journey out of the building was actually a blessing because each time I thought about letting loose into a full-blown crying fest, my thought was, "I have to make it out of this school building!"

To my surprise, when I did get out of the building, I didn't break down. I didn't cry on the way home, either. Instead, I wondered what the kids would do that day; what friends they would make; if they would remember to ask if they needed to use the bathroom. And it occurred to me that I should savor the fact that my children are confident, independent (as much as a 4 yr. old can be), and not afraid of new situations. Rather than kicking and screaming, crying and holding onto me tightly, they were secure enough to let go of me and jump into their new adventure. I have never been more proud.