Confessions of a Cry Baby

This 5 year old boy has made me cry more than a few times over the past month.

Wouldn't you cry too if you were losing your buddy of 5 years to a full-day factory that steals your babies and turns them into educated individuals with minds, thoughts, and ideas of their own?

1. This was the first episode.  We were having a lovely backyard picnic, and I was snapping a picture when I noticed Henry and Ellis, completely unprompted, with their arms around each other on the trampoline.

They were having a great imaginative moment together - one that represents how well they've gotten along this summer (that's not to say they didn't fight several times every day as well - but they really have been best friends lately).  

I snuck around them and took these pictures . . .

 . . . completely unposed -- I swear!  They were just having a happy day playing together.  I took the pictures and then ran inside and bawled.  Not only was I going to miss Henry when he started Kindergarten, but I knew that Ellis was going to miss him too!  What will Ellis do without him?  What will I do without the two of them having each other?  Why can't they just stay in this moment, looking up into the clouds and dreaming together, forever?  

Why can't I just freeze my little boys just the way they are?  

Who invented public school, and who do they think they are?

2. And come to think of it, what will Sam do without Henry?  Henry has been Sam's best little buddy this summer as well.  He has played with him, loved him, kissed him, entertained him, protected him, made him laugh, and has just absolutely adored him.  Will Sam feel less loved when Henry is gone all day?  Will I survive without having my star helper taking care of Sam for me?  The tears spouted on.

Here's Henry in front of our house, looking super happy/excited/confident for his first day.  I held back the tears and worked on getting him to school on time.

It was a rainy day for drop-off.  The Kindergarteners lined up inside, so we got this picture outside and I continued to hold back the tears.

3. As soon as we walked in the doors and saw the teachers rushing about to line everyone up, I got a lump in my throat.  At that moment, it wasn't the thought of missing him, but the excitement of the teachers, the students, the hustle and thrill of the first day of school.  It was a familiar feeling to me, and for the first time, I felt excited for him.  He's off to do REAL things, make real memories.  He might even remember this day when he's my age!  He's going to remember his teacher and the kids in his class, and he's going to start the process of really deciding what kind of person he wants to be.  He no longer has to tag along with Mom on boring errands all day; he gets to start a new adventure where his life really starts to take shape.

As I kissed him good-bye and walked out of the school, the tears started to flow.  I was crying because my little boy is not mine anymore.  The boy who used to be my 6-month-old smiling baby, the boy who used to drive cars around the house all day, the boy who used to ask what was going to be the "Craft of the Day" every single day, is now his own.  And he's going to have a big adventure.  And he's going to love it.  And I'm so proud of him.

4. And of course, I'm sobbing while writing this blog post.  Lots of tears for a very important boy.