You didn't want to go. You refused to get out of bed. You slept later than you have in months. You refused to get dressed, eat breakfast or even use the potty. You insisted you were scared. I had to dress you in a rush. I had to thrust a granola bar upon you so you wouldn't be hungry all morning long. You whined and were sluggish. But you didn't cry. And neither did I. And you let me take a picture in which you looked excited, even if you weren't. You told me you were scared. I reassured you as best I could. So you bravely walked into your classroom and found your cubby. You also found a spot on the animal carpet to sit - on the turtle. You sat criss-cross-apple-sauce and waved, sheepishly, good-bye to me. I "meditated" on you for a short bit before I drove away. Sending you all of my love, all of my good thoughts, and a lot of strength. Then I went home and worked for 2 hours straight. For me, that felt good. But I also hoped that you were well and smiling and having fun.
And when I picked you up, almost 3 hours later, you were smiling a wondrous grin. It was part pride in yourself for making it through your first day of preschool, and part relief that I picked you up at the end of your day. We hugged. A long, long time. And that felt pretty darn good. Then I bought you your own package of gum as a reward for having such a great day. And we hugged again, and that felt just awesome.