He picked out his clothes yesterday and laid them out. He told me what to pack for his lunch. He put all his things in his backpack and set his shoes by the door.
He didn't sleep well last night; he woke up twice and came in my bed both times. Once I put him back, the other I just snuggled him. I remember how excited I used to be for school and I knew it was no different for him. When Matt's alarm went off, he jumped out of bed and ran to his room to get dressed. During breakfast Peter marveled that it was still dark outside. Eleanor woke up just in time for him to catch the bus, so she came outside with us. We waited for a few minutes, with Peter thinking that he saw the bus around every corner and every sound must be the bus coming. When it came, his face lit up and he stood at the very edge of the curb. He climbed on the bus and sat in the front row next to the other kindergartner, as ordered by his bus driver. He waved to me, and the bus pulled away.
I feel like someone reached down my throat and pulled my stomach out. I'm not an emotional person by any means, but the thought of my first baby having a life that I don't know about, a life not overseen by me at all times, a life where I don't know what he's saying or doing or seeing is something I'm not ready for. This is the end of Peter being mine, all mine. And I'm not ready for that.
1 comment:
Oh Joss, what a bittersweet day. If I were there I'd take you to Graeter's to drown our sorrows in deliciousness.
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