my heartstrings

My heartstrings- or are they "apron strings"?- are aching. He is so independent. A huge grin on his face as he climbs out of my idling car, hefts his Kermit backpack onto his shoulders and then, up on his toes (giraffe toes), he truly prances away toward his preschool class. All by himself. He doesn't need me, his Mama, at all.

I wanted to stay to watch until he turned the corner to his room. To prolong the pain- a proud pain, but still a pain. Deep in my body from somewhere between my heart and my uterus. My eyes are filled with tears and I drive around the corner, hoping to catch a glimpse of him again. But I don't. He's gone. And I don't want my baby gone. Not yet.


This snippet about Bug was actually written October 4, 2007. From the first day of school after Labor Day, I had walked him to class. While willing to join the carpool group at dismissal, he still wanted me to bring him in. I was glad. I like peeking into the room, seeing the teacher, the kids and the art on the walls. I was still wavering about creating a blog, so it got "posted" on a little scrap of paper while I sat in the grocery parking lot crying. I kept seeing it and thinking about posting it online.

This morning he asked, "Do you miss me when I go to school?" Absolutely! I answered. And when I dropped him off, I watched him as his little blue hood bounced up and down, above and below the railing by his class. His bouncy gait is so identifying I could pick him out of a crowd quickly. He loves going to preschool and he fills my car with all his excitement when I pick him up. I'm proud that my children are so independent. I just don't want them to ever not need me.