That was Fast!

As of 10:30 this morning, I have a first-grader.

Oh...ma...gawd.

Didn't we just start kindergarten? Wasn't I just whining about leaving him at the school for the first time in his little uniform, all by his little self in those hallways swirling with kids and teachers and people I didn't know? At least then, I took comfort in the fact that my baby was a baby at school too, and that everybody would give him a little extra room, being just a kindergartener and all.

And here we are, finished. He's reading--whole books. Last night, he picked up my old copy of Stuart Little and went to town on chapter 1. He's doing math. He's counting money and telling time and singing the Star Spangled Banner and reciting the Joyful Mysteries and doing about a billion other things that big kids do. My baby!

This morning, he put on his little uniform like every other day, complained about breakfast like every other day, and raced through the school doors as has become habit since September. His sister and I went and got gas for the car and then hit the grocery store for a few things. I picked up a celebratory balloon for him and got $20 back in cash so we could order pizza for lunch.

Two hours later, I parked in the carpool line and started reading my magazine. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them...all the kindergarteners in a neat line behind their teacher (who I adore, by the way), coming out of church and meandering to the parking lot, right to the first white line. Just like they're supposed to.

I was OK.

I got out of the car, walked down the little hill, and got almost to the first white line to claim him. And then his teacher looked at me, shook her head, and started to cry. Nineteen years, she's taught this school's kindy class, and she still cries on the last day.

I held it together. Said our good-byes and have-a-nice-summers, herded the kids up the hill into the car, and opened his folder. Inside was the nicest note in the world written on his report card, all about what a great job he did this year and how much his teachers enjoyed having him. And there was a green feather taped to a little note, congratulating him on passing through to first grade and encouraging him to grow wings and fly, and always make magic. And a photograph of him on the first day of kindy.

Damn.

I'm going to miss kindergarten. I'm sure first grade will be wonderful, but it's straight downhill from here...to sullen preteens and even more sullen teenagers and years when it won't punch me in the gut when the last day of school comes. My baby's not really a baby anymore.

He did a great job. I'm so proud of him.

First grade. Whoda thunk it was coming this fast?