Today Isaac went off to preschool for the very first time. I played it off in an upbeat manner by listing all the wonderful things he would get to do and the friends he would have the opportunity of meeting. He was excited but there was this underlining apprehension. He seemed to know that this was the beginning of a long career in school and as much as he'd rather stay at home with me, it wasn't going to happen. We ate a good breakfast, got his backpack ready and took some pictures. Once we were outside the classroom door he squared his shoulders and marched into the classroom without so much as a kiss and a hug good-bye. The teachers have a clearly structured routine and once he was in - well, he was in. I found I needed to restrain myself from running in to kiss and hug him goodbye and harassing his teacher with questions along the lines of: "How'd he do today? Was he sad? Did he cry?" Though I suppose I'm not the first neurotic mother they've meet.
When I picked him up I asked him how he was and he said he was little sad that we never got to hug and kiss, something he promised he would remember to do next time. It was sweet, a little something to let me know how much he still needs me.