Preschool Virgin

Yesterday marked a most momentous occasion in my almost-three year journey of motherhood: my son's first day of preschool. I find that as much as I want him to learn and grow and discover, I don't want to let him go. I want him to always hold my hand as he crosses the street or twirl his hair as he sucks his thumb. I want Baby Teddy to always have to get a nametag when he gets one; I want to hear "Hold me, Mommy," every day for the rest of my life. I strive to etch these moments onto my heart so they are always reachable when I drag out the family photo album and study his face that has already changed so much. For these are the days that are the hardest part of watching our children grow up: watching him go, watching him venture forth into the world of Play-Doh and play scissors, and knowing that the saddest moments are yet to come.