Caution: Weepage Ahead

Today is my Gabe's First Day of School!

He has been obsessively counting the days until this hallowed day has finally arrived.

Here he is recounting to me the myriad exciting events he is expecting today which should include but not be limited to: A trip to the gym! Sitting at his special spot at the little tables! Putting his backpack in his locker! And most importantly, a trip to the cafeteria! *Slurp! (*A slurping noise must always follow the pronouncement of the word "cafeteria" because, you know, that's what Shaggy does.)


Gabe's teacher, Mrs. G, smilingly greets us at the classroom door and graciously agrees to pose for a photo. Gabe chooses this location for the photo because it marks the locale of his very own cubby hole with his name on it!!!

I was very grateful to Mrs. G for the way she greets Gabe and takes charge of the occasion because it distracts considerably from the fact that I am welling up with tears to the point where I can no longer see straight while trying to hide my maternal stress and emotion from Gabe. I've seen this classroom twice now, and on both occasions I have begun an instantaneous emotional breakdown which is likely Pavlovian in all mothers sending their firstborn off to kindergarten.

Mrs. G is a pro. She stops my maudlin ass in its tracks. Thank God for Mrs. G and her ilk.


Gabe agrees to pose for another photo outside the school, but barely. He is literally prancing with excitement to join the other kids who were now arriving with their mothers and fathers in tow. Little girls are dressed in their best play dresses and accompanied by parents with cameras, like me.

A few small families are coming in all together with a baby in a stroller and mom and dad both holding the hand of their excited school aged child. I think of Hubby, so far away in Georgia, wishing desperately that he could be here.

I begin to gulp back the hot tears which are flooding the back of my throat once again. I distract myself by giving Gabe my most brilliant smile and hugging him goodbye as his joins the other kids entering the classroom.

And then I bolt for my minivan where I can finally sob in earnest.


I think of my sweet boy as a tiny nursling, with his tiny pink fist grasping my gigantic finger, holding on with all his might. He has always been a snuggler, craving frequent physical contact and long hugs for reassurance and connection. But today he has let go of my hand without a backward glance.

We have experienced so many first together, Gabe and I. My journey into the joys and trials of parenthood has made up the tapestry of his self exploration filled with triumphs and defeats as he has discovered who he is and how he fits into the world.

And today my boy and I share another First. This is the first time he will embark on a journey of discovery without my constant presence at his side.

He is ready. He is confident. He is gregarious. He is charming and silly and eager. He is so wonderful and I am so proud of him.

And so I cry and cry as I drive home, not because I am worried about him, but because I know he will be great.