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I thought Kindergarten was a big adjustment.  But in hindsight it really wasn't.  It really was glorified preschool. 

Now first grade?  That’s an entirely different story. 

My oldest, Abby, is 6.  She started first grade on Monday.  Trying to avoid a repeat of the beginning of last school year (a meltdown that lasted over a week), we tried not to play it up too much.  My husband and I made a calculated effort to NOT spend hours on end preparing her for a longer day at school or more responsibility.

It appears to have paid off.  She is happy as a clam and complains that the hardest part of first grade is the fact that “everyone wants to be her friend”.   Great!  I’m thrilled.  She is settling right in.

Now me?  Not so much. 

On the nights leading up to the first day, I lost sleep over whether the after school bus driver and Abby would find each other after class.  After all, Abby’s class is in a different area.  On day one, I arrived a few minutes before class let out to make sure Abby found where she needed to go.  She did and she didn’t need me to help but it made me feel better.

I was horrified to find out on day two that the teacher doesn’t have the classroom open in the morning until the bell rings.  So, I had to leave Abby on the blacktop with 6000 kids and a yard duty teacher and pray that she wouldn’t get kidnapped or decide to walk to the store for a snack.  She made it to class and didn’t need me to guide her.

Then yesterday, she asked me if I could just drop her off so she could walk to class on her own.  My head was saying yes but my heart was saying no.  So I watched her, Tinkerbell backpack and all, cross the street with the crossing guard and head to class.  Again, she didn’t need me.

You can see where this is headed…my baby is growing up and needs me a little bit less each year.  As hard as it is for me to let go, I’m doing it in little ways and she is getting a shot to spread her wings a little.  And I guess that is what parenting is all about.