beginning of the end

I told Daniel last night that this was the beginning of the end. 

He looked at me lovingly and laughed. I know it sounds dramatic but bear with me, because I'm certain my feelings (however tainted by hormones and nostalgia) are right. 

Sam started school today. He's two and a half and until today has spent every day in my care, or my husband's, or my parents. I'm sure there are a few exceptions but you get the point. 

(Momentary but monumental shoutout of gratitude for my ever lovin' crazy dedicated three job workin' while school attendin' husband who made my super flexible work schedule possible. Thank. You.) 

And we're the luckiest because we get to send him to my school. With the most generous, kind, patient, loving, hilarious, honest, beautiful teachers on the planet. That's a fact I have witnessed and would attest to in a court of law. There are literally no better teachers on the planet. There just aren't. And I know writers are prone to exaggeration but just trust me on this one. 

And a lot of the time, I'm gonna be in the building next door. Trying to restrain myself from peering through the windows at every turn. 

So my sadness and anxiety today isn't based in worry for his care or safety. 

(Although maybe a little just because he's my kid and evolution demands that I fear for his safety and well being, so okay.) 

But my feelings today are most rooted in jealousy. I am jealous that other people get to spend the day with him. I really like that kid. 

Obviously, he's two and I'm well aware of his faults. He's definitely a whole lotta kid so it's not always sunshine and rainbows with him. But for the most part, he is so fun to be around. He's smart and hilarious. He loves books and counting and play doh and singing and dancing. And being loud. And playing full force. And smooching. And watching shows. And playing with goo. And helping his dada cook. And brushing his brother's hair out of his eyes. 

And from now on, from this day forward, every single day he will be spending the majority of his weekday hours with other people. With people that aren't me. 

He is creating his own life, separate from me. And that is awesome and great. But, selfishly, so hard. 

The beginning of the end. 

It's daunting to think about. 

So today I'm gonna wallow a bit. And celebrate the ability to fold laundry without him jumping in the piles. And maybe cry a little. And watch whatever I want on tv. 

Then I'm gonna race to get him at the earliest possible moment that because I can't wait to see his face. And we're gonna eat fro yo and celebrate the fact that we both made it through this day, the beginning and the end.