First day, first-grade notes

Wilder walks into school with his friend, Gavin. Photo by Michele Nakari.

Today was the first day of first grade. Wilder was excited to go back to school (well, at least until he found out his brother was going swimming without him while he was there) and was as collected as can be until we turned the last corner.

Kids everywhere. Bikes. Scooters. Kids getting dropped off in cars. Etc.

"I'm a little scared," he said.

"You OK?" I answered.

"Yeah. Scared, but still mostly excited."

Looking "very handsome," as he requested when I fixed his hair.

So on we went. He saw his principal near the front door and wanted to swing near her to say hi. On our way, we were singing some silly little made-up song together. When we got about 20 feet from her and a bunch of fifth-graders whose new job it is to help the flow of the drop-off lane, he says to me: "Shhh. That's enough now."

We say hi to the principal and go on our way. At some point he's grabbed my hand and is clinging pretty tight to it. As we're getting ready to turn the corner toward the back of the school, where they all line up to go in, I glance down at his hand and ask him: "Are you sure you want to be holding my hand?"

"Oh, right." Jerks hand away. "Thanks, mom."

Sometimes it's your job to keep them close. And sometimes it's your job to help them realize they can get a little further away.

My heart both hurt and soared to see him heading into that building. The first day of the next 12 years of going to school every single weekday. It will be a lot less time with that boy that I have loved more each day of the last 2,500 days or so. But he's getting more independent, more comfortable in his own skin, making a little life of his own. And, as someone who has cherished and fiercely guarded my own independence my whole life, I can't help but be so proud and happy for him.

I might post some more photos as soon as I get them downloaded and edited. Sometime this week I'll post more about Hunter and the adventure we're getting ready to embark upon. He's never had me to himself, and it couldn't come at a better time.