He cried when I dropped him off at preschool this morning.
We did so well on the first few days, but now I guess the reality of it has set in.
It actually started about five minutes before we were about to leave. He started crying at home, for no apparent reason. We regrouped, snuggled and decided to bring
a book to show his teacher.
I got him into the car. And into the school.
I assured him that I'd be back at 11:15 and gave him a kiss in his hand (have you ever read
The Kissing Hand?) and a kiss on his cheek too. He was trying so hard to be brave, but he looked quite sad as I walked away. I tried not to look back, but I heard his wonderful teacher ask him to see the book that he had brought to show her. And I peeked in the window after I shut the door and I could see him on her lap looking at the book, still looking sad.
But I know that he's in good hands.
And it's already 10:08. So I can go pick him up in an hour.