This cheeser had his first day of preschool right after the new year. He would always tell me he didn't want to go but I knew he would love it. Thinking back on his first day still makes me laugh. I was set on being on time but somehow we found ourselves late. I was rushing Carter and Naomi inside, Carter was running with his cute backpack on yelling to me, "Mom! C'mon! I'm gonna' be late!" as my 9 month pregnant-self was waddling as fast as I could behind him.
Suddenly, he lost his shoe and his face turned to sheer panic. I yell at him something about hurrying up and "Just get inside! We'll fix it once we're in there!" He's in shock and says, "Mom, I can't go inside with just one shoe!?" I couldn't help but die laughing. It was totally chaotic and jumbled, everything I had tried to not have it be. Not surprisingly too, Carter was reminding me about everything I needed to do.
"Mom, did you get my water bottle?"
"Mom, did you write my name on my snack?"
"Did you bring my extra pair of clothes?"
He just felt so old to me that morning. We felt like we were on the same playing field. I have a love/hate relationship with experiences that make me realize my sweet boy isn't a baby or toddler anymore. He's growing up and there's nothing I can do about it but I guess hang on and enjoy the ride.
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