The alarm clock sounded at 5:45am. With so much to get done, I should have jumped right out of bed, but instead I decided to lay there just a few more minutes. I thought about the day ahead. It was the first day of school. And it's official, I now have the house to myself.
Most of our routine remained the same. We ate breakfast, made our beds, and watched a bit of T.V. The kids were even excited to help with our annual tradition of taking first day pictures on the front porch. Since Daddy had to go to work, I had to trust the kids to take turns with the camera so that I could take a picture with each child.
The ride to school was uneventful. And even when I thought the tears would begin...they never came from either child.
Potter, my new first grader, entered class with gusto. He waved as to say, "Go ahead Mom, I'm OK." And so I did. Ever so happy to have Scooter my kindergartner reach for my hand. Surprisingly, he never cried either. Although there were a few of his new friends that looked like they may not make it to the classroom door.
When it was time to wave goodbye, I did my best at giving my proudest smile.
By the time I had reached the car, I was a sloppy mess. I knew this would pass, but so had all those firsts and lasts in a blink of an eye: "The first day of First Grade," "The first day of Kindergarten," and "The last time I helped button 2 shirts in one day."
When I returned home I quickly pulled out the camera to review this mornings pictures. I should have expected that when you hand a camera to your child, you don't always get what you expect. So there I was in both pictures, hugging my child. The only problem...my head was cut off in both pictures. I could do nothing but laugh.
It are moments like these that end up in scrapbooks. It are moments like these that help get you through the roughest of times. It are moments like these that help you, "When Little Hands Let Go."