This is my baby, my little girl, my squirt.
Okay, maybe this is a more accurate picture of what she looks like, and when I say more accurate I mean this is what she looks like.
However in my head she will always be two.
Today she started Kindergarten. She is thrilled and if I’m honest it is something the she has wanted since the first moment she saw a bus. She is loving it right now. As I sit here writing this I can’t help but mourn a certain loss. I’ve sent her to pre-k so I’m use to being away from her, but that was for a couple hours a week. This is all day, five days a week for the next thirteen years. Over dramatic, yes, but I’m missing my little buddy. She has been my shadow for the last five years and now it is time for her to grow up a little bit and move away from me. While that is something to celebrate I can’t help to feel a bit of a loss.
This isn’t only her first day of school and her learning to get over her fears of being away, but a time for me to try to move past of my fears of failing her as a parent. Did I prepared her enough? Did I teach her enough to keep up? I know it is silly, but these are the thoughts running through my mind and oddly it is comforting. The more I think about it the more I realize that this is just the start a beautiful new beginning for her, one that will always include me in one form or another because she is my baby. And even when she is in college she will always look like this to me: