To my Big Star on his Big Day

Dear Baby Big Star,

You might only still be wearing 18-24 month shorts (2T if it's a bad laundry week), but you are every second of your 3 years old today.  Today was your first day of preschool.  That "in Seb-teb-er" day finally arrived.  We've talked about it so much and teased you with a year's worth of Little Bug school pick ups that I don't really think you believed this day would come until I pulled out the Elmo backpack and strapped it on you.  You dutifully stood there while I took pictures, but I could tell you were still wondering if this was all pretend.

I snuck some looks at you in your seat as you and I drove alone to school this morning.  You had this tiny grin glued on your face as you watched the familiar route with rapt attention.  This.was.happening.

OMG, this was happening.  My baby was going to school. I'm sorry, but wasn't it just like last month that I cuddled you in my arms and played "ko ko ko epp" while you drank one of your five daily bottles? I've been totally okay with you going to preschool up until this morning when I had a mini panic attack thinking through the fact that I was going to take you to school where you would function independent of us.  Like, what kind of madness is that?  You are my baby.

But you stood in front of your new preschool like a kid before a Christmas tree as I snapped a few more shots.  Every shot you inched farther out of frame as your entire body was literally buzzing from suppressed excitement.

And then, with no preamble from either of us, I let you go.

You actually ran into that school shouting "Big Star's preschool!  Big Star's preschool!"  All that was missing was the fist pump or the flag you planned to stake down.  There was no hesitation, no fear.  You hung your backpack in your room, gave your teacher (Little Bug's beloved old teacher) a good morning hug, and ran off to get your hands on the freaking dump truck you have been eying for the better part of 6 months.  By the time I realized what had happened, you were across the room hunched down playing with two other friends, and I didn't have the heart to drag you back for a goodbye or hug.

For the record, I didn't cry, although thinking about not getting a hug makes me want to now.

No surprise, you were a big star today.  Your teachers were busted up over the stories you told them about Idaho and grandma and tractors.  They marveled at your fabulous eating habits (salad...seriously kid, you even ate salad for them?), sharing nature (umm, what?), and great listening skills (thank goodness).  And I am so freaking proud of you for diving right into "real life" and thriving.  It's not a surprise, but it's still a joy to see.

You were so happy today to tell us all about your day. You had the time of your life and knowing that I am going to see that twice a week for the next year is fun to think about. 

It was time to let you go a bit, my baby Big Star.  You and I both needed to let you grow up a bit, since you certainly can handle it.  I'm proud of you for rocking preschool like a champion.  Just one tiny step toward what will undoubtedly be the life of a star.

I love you, Big Star.  Happy first day of (BIG STAR'S!) preschool.