Oliver, no matter how big you get, you will always be my baby. Mammy used to tell me that, and I didn’t have the slightest idea what it meant until I had you. I took you to school today, a bit of a rare occurrence because Daddy usually takes you on his way to work.
You stopped me in the hallway–halfway between the office and your classroom–and said, “Okay, Mom. Here.”
You didn’t want me to go all the way to Mrs. Walker’s class with you. I made sure that you really wanted what you were asking.
“You want to say goodbye here and go to the class by yourself?”
“Mm-hm,” and head nod.
“You want to go to the library by yourself?”
“Well, that’s not new.”
Aaah… so you wanted to try something new, stretch your wings, feel some independence. So we said goodbye in the hall, and I walked out trying to hold back tears. My baby is getting so big, and as it should be, is needing me less and less.
I am so proud of you, Bugaboo, and so full of ache and nostalgia.