Yesterday was The Boy's first "full day" of preschool.  Only 2 hours and 45 minutes, but it's the 2 hours and 45 minutes I have been anticipating for quite some time.  In fact, it's all I have talked about since I up and enrolled him a week ago. 

I couldn't WAIT to take him.  For days and days I have read all these sweet blog posts about how traumatized moms have been to drop off their children.  I scoffed.  In fact, I was slightly ashamed that maybe, just maybe, I might be one of those moms that would drop her child off at preschool and then forget to pick him up because she was having a high old time.  I called my friend Renee (i.e. The Ueber Mom) and made my confessions.  Ever the kind and generous person, she told me that she was sure that it might be just a little bit harder on me than I expected.

I knew he was going to cry because he has to be peeled from either my leg or his father's leg on Sunday mornings at church.  I was gruff.  He was just going to have to suck it up because he and I needed a break from each other.  What if I didn't even care that he cried because I was so glad to be away from him?

As I handed him over the door to the ever gracious Miss Jo Ann, he began to cry his best "I-Can't-Believe-You-Are-Leaving-Me-You-Bitch-If-You-REALLY-Loved-Me-You-Would-Take-Me-With-You-To-Starbucks-And-Get-Me-A-Whole-Milk-Grande-Hot-Chocolate-With-Extra-Whip."  Not to confused with the "My-Heart-Will-Break-If-You-Desert-Me" wail.  And all the sudden it hit me like a ton of bricks.  My eyes started to well up with tears and I choked out a "I'll-Be-Back-I-Love-You" and ran down the hall and out the door.  I cried in the car the whole way home and felt miserable.  Until I got out the ice cream, laid on the couch and picked up a smut novel to read.  Oh how peace and quiet heals all wounds. 

I came back at the alloted time and stood behind the woman who had to retrieve her child that had clearly been crying hysterically for all 2 hours and 45 minutes.  I stepped up the door and said, "I'm hear to pick up the OTHER Ethan."  Miss Jo Ann looked around and couldn't seem to locate him.  I heard a "Hell-OOO" from around her knees and looked down to find my son standing on his tippy toes, trying to open the door.  Not upset but clearly seeing an opportunity to leave, he was plotting his escape.  And he had some of the dryest eyes in the group.  I reached down over the door and picked him up.  He grabbed onto my neck as tight as he could and gave me a wet kiss on the nose.   "Did you have a good day at school?" I asked.  "YES!!" was his reply.

I was never happier to see his smiling face.  Sometimes being "on a break" is good for a relationship.