First Day of Preschool

I am going to try not to cry as I write this, because once again (again!) I have been caught off guard by how quickly my child is growing up.

Nathan started preschool today. PRESCHOOL. Not the free-for-all playtime that was mothers morning out last year, but actual legitimate preschool. With structure. And a curriculum. And this makes him seem much more grown-up than he did last week.

Big boy Nathan, leaving the house for his first day of preschool!

He'll be going two mornings a week to our church's Weekday School. (What they miss out on in creativity for that name, they get bonus points -- from me anyway -- for being one of the only things at our church that's named simply what it is, so no one has to guess what the name means or what the ministry does.) There are six -- six!! -- classes of two-year-olds, and he is in the youngest one, so I am no longer worried about him not being able to do some of what the older kids can do -- all of them in the class are within four months of each other.

Like many events at our church, the first day of school was marked by a flamingo flocking. Nathan said, "It's a goose! It's a pink goose! I see it!"

Going up the steps into the classroom building.

Fortunately the dropoff this morning was way too chaotic for me to be emotional. Though it did hit me how old Nathan seemed climbing the steps inside, once we got to his class the efficient and logical part of my brain took over from the sappy camera-wielding side. There were crying kids, clingy parents (why are the parents more clingy than the toddlers? come on, people) so I just left him with his teacher, said a prayer of thanks that mine was the only one not pitching a fit, and made a quick exit while he found a truck to play with. And then went to Starbucks for some mommy-juice.

Nathan with his teacher, Mrs. P (at orientation a few days ago).

And didn't dwell too much on the fact that my baby, my tiny newborn son whom I'm pretty sure I pushed out like ten minutes ago, is now a walking talking person who will be in school following rules (I hope), and sitting in a circle to read stories, and taking turns on the slide on the playground. Because if I dwell on it, I will cry.