and his first day of middle school.
Today, as he navigates his first day at the largest middle school in North Carolina, I'm reflecting on that morning, six years ago. This is a snippet of what I wrote back on September 4th, 2012:
I sit here typing this in a very quiet house, having taken Owen to his first day of kindergarten at Carroll Lutheran School this morning. The only disruption is Beamer jumping on the desk for a cuddle (and flurry of cat hair), and I'm pleased to report that so far, I'm doing OK.
Yesterday was tough - I was keenly aware of the hours of the last day of life as I'd known it ticking away - and since I cried at both Open House Night and Cookies & Me (meet the teachers), I fully expected to sob this morning.
It's not that I'm not sad; I'll miss my little buddy tremendously. And I expect that right now the reality of him being gone all day every day hasn't even sunk in, and that I will have some ups and downs over the next weeks. But I realize I have been incredibly blessed to be able to stay at home with him over the past five and a half years, and I am so thankful for that experience and opportunity.
I purposely planned some errands for this afternoon, and maybe I'll even get in a quick trip to Kohl's, and then of course I will be one of the first in line at 3:00 to pick up Owen and give him a huge hug.
A lot has changed; more remains the same. I've been in my usual end of school funk for a few days now. I truly love our summers together and this one was particularly fun, making traditions and friends, and enjoying a relaxed schedule and new adventures.
We've met his teachers and the principal; I have faith in their enthusiasm and ability to guide Owen in his educational journey. I know that he will, in his own way and in his own time, make Community House a comfortable place (he will, he will, he will).
His amazing, incredible teacher from last year, Mrs. DeLuca, sent an email this morning encouraging all her former students as they started 6th grade. In her words: "You are more ready than you think. More capable than you know. And more wonderful than you can imagine".
I cried as I read it to him; I cried as I watched him walk to the bus stop this morning. It doesn't ever get easier. So I ran some errands this afternoon and took a little shopping trip, and I will be the first car in line to pick him up after cross country practice at 6:00.
And I will again, and every single day he'll let me, give him a huge hug.