I thought this day would never come!

Today was THE day. My last child is FINALLY in school.

I was expecting tears, either hers or mine, but none came.

Ok, we were close about lunch time, Kayla was very upset and had even changed her mind about going to school, but even that turned out to be a false alarm. (Nanny should KNOW by now she will not eat her Pokemon pasta warmed up, geeeee the trouble THAT can cause!)

The anxiety built up all day..."Is it time yet mommy?" "Is it one o'clock yet mommy?" We were even ready early, so we sat outside for a few minutes. Kayla in the van, mom and I on the porch. We start chatting...wouldn't you know it? Even with Kayla constantly asking "Can we go already?" Before we knew it, I was late. Doh!

We get there about a minute before the bell rings. I can tell she is feeling shy, the hanging-on-for-dear-life-squeezing-mommy's-leg-tight kind of gave that away. So I crouch down and ask her, "Who are you going to make friends with?".

Her eyes dart from one side of the playground to the other, settling on a girl who happens to be the furthest away from us. And I question her, "Is that the lucky girl?". She proudly smiles and nods her head. Triumph! My child has made a friend, even if she is the only one who knows this. She is happy.

The bell rings, and the children quickly form a line in front of the door. Now I should mention, Kevin and Katie have been tutoring Kayla for at least the last three months, with thier combined vast knowledge, on all the important things she needs to know and what to expect for when she begins Junior Kindergarten. She should be well prepared. One point they forgot to mention is how to line up.

We were right beside where the line forms, and by my calculations, Kayla should have been first in line. I didn't think it wise to let her actually be the first, seeing as she had no idea where she would be going. So I allowed another child to start the line. I found it hilarious that, as I was leading Kayla behind this child, another one would step in before Kayla could step into position. So we move one step further back, and just as she is about to get into the line, another child takes that spot, then another, then another. She finally secured a spot in about 15th place.

I stand back, trying to take in every detail, her red Mickey Mouse shirt, her black pants, her stuffed-doggy back-pack...I want to remember the day my last child first goes to school.

I think in years to come, if I remember anything at all, it will be this moment. She stands, head held high, hands down at her sides, face forward, her nose touching the back-pack of the child in front of her. I stifle a giggle as I add 'personal space' to the list of things I have yet to teach her.

I can see her fear, and marvel at her courage. She doesn't complain at all. We have prepared for this day, we knew basically what to expect, yet, I think we are both caught slightly off guard. I sneak back to the line and ask her if she needs a kiss. Ok, maybe it's me who needs it. She obliges me. I want so badly to hug her, yet I hold back. I may not be able to let go. The line starts moving.

I am sending my last child out into the world. And she is not only ready and willing, she is gone. No parade. No fanfare. Only silence. And the moment is gone.