Well, would you want to bring used paper towels to your son’s new classroom?

I knew I was close to the edge when I yelled at Chris for unwrapping the package of paper towels that were for Sebastian’s class.

You see, I didn’t want them to think I was bringing them used paper towels.

I’ve been scatterbrained and forgetful and jittery.  I almost broke down trying to pick out what socks to buy Sebastian in the store last night.

I couldn’t go to sleep, and when Sebastian woke up at 4:30 having to pee this morning, I was already wide awake.

In other words, I’ve been FUH-REAKING OUT.

Since we decided to put Sebastian in preschool I haven’t given too much thought to how it will be for me.  I mean, I knew I’d have some free time, but I didn’t really know, you know?

And the past few weeks have been spent getting him ready, with school shopping and eye doctor appointments and open houses.  But just in the last few days it hit me that he’ll be spending regularly scheduled time away from me, learning things that I’m not in charge of teaching him.

When we were waiting at the optometrist office we were sitting near a mother and her teenage son.  She was knitting and he was texting or playing a game or just fooling around on his phone.  It’s going to sound corny, but I saw my future in them.  That will be me and my son in about 12 years.

And it just hurts my heart to think about him growing up.  He’s such a big part of my life and I’m such a big part of his.  

Obviously that will change as he does more and more things outside of the house and away from me.  And seeing him sitting in that huge eye-doctor chair, with his little legs crossed and acting a little more reserved than normal (which is not at all) since everything was new and strange, I can see that this is the beginning.

He’s no longer my baby and probably hasn’t been for a long time, but I was too busy to see it happening.  He’s growing up and soon won’t be pretending to be various characters he sees on TV or reads about in books, or saying things like “I like it but I don’t like it,” or looking at me out of the corner of his eye when I ask him to name a letter he can’t remember.

He’ll be going to school and making friends and probably getting in trouble for talking too much or refusing to answer to anything other than ‘Pingu’ or ‘Baby Jaguar.’

And so this morning was tough for me.  We walked into his classroom and his teacher put his name tag on and showed him how to hang up his back pack and then he went straight to the train table.  I caught up with him and took my hug and kiss and let him know again that he was staying but I had to leave.

Love you baby.  Have fun.

Bye!  See you later!

The tears came as I was walking out.  One of his teachers came in the hallway with me I guess because she knew I needed a little comfort and commiseration.  

My big boy.

He’s going to have so much fun.