The First of 1st

Today was Jefferson's 1^st day of 1^st grade!

This boy was excited! He was thrilled to get dressed, eat all his breakfast, make his bed, brush his teeth and hair, even clean his room. I think I could have gotten him to do ANYTHING this morning. Man, I should have taken advantage of his enthusiasm… "okay, Jefferson, we'll go to school as soon as you make Mommy's bed and tidy the bathroom and… and… and…" I have no doubt he would have done it too.

It's just 1st grade... no biggy, right? But NO....

Why am I still feeling this anxiety at the beginning of school? Of course I felt it when he started preschool, and I cried. Last year when he started Kindergarten I cried the whole drive home. You'd think I be used to this. But no! Dropping him off for 1^st grade was just as hard as preschool and Kindergarten. Maybe it's the fact he'll be there ALL DAY!!! I will see my little 6 year old at 9:00am, then say goodbye until 3:30pm. When we get home, he'll play outside, finish homework, get ready for bed, and the day will be over. I will have VERY LITTLE time with him. And this is a shocker for me.

I'm sad because I realize I can't put him on like a puppet and have him do what I want him to do. Every year I feel like I'm losing my influence over him a little bit more. And it will never end. Before I know it there will be scouts….band….sports….seminary….a job…college…mission….marriage….AHHHHHH!

Okay, I'm being a little over-dramatic.

I get this crazy at every life transition, trust me!

Luckily he is going to the best school in the district (okay, I'm biased).

This little school is a gem. All the teachers and staff were standing in the hallway as I walked him to his class this morning. As we walked I could hear, "Hi Jefferson," "Welcome back Jefferson"…. They remembered him, and his name. It felt so good to leave him where everyone knows him and cares for him. The students in his class are the same as last year so I have no worries of him making friends or not.

I just worry whether he'll eat all his lunch.