My Little Kate

Today I sent my little Katelyn (Apparantly there are a lot of Caitlin's. Mine is now "the one with the 'K-A-T-E'.") off to preschool. It is her first day. She has been so excited about this ever since I brought up the idea (she imagines it's like going to Hogwarts), so even though it is a bit out of our budget right now, I enrolled her for the year.

I was up late last night with my mind racing. I checked her temperature three times throughout the morning, secretly hoping for a fever--any excuse to keep her home. But after the thermometer's thrice clean bill of health, I had no excuses left. I took her to the school, walked her to the door and into her classroom...all the while hiding my emotions. She seemed fine...maybe a bit apprehensive. She cried a little before I left, but she said it was only because I scratched her face with the tissue while I was wiping her nose.

So here I sit. Me and Littleman, who just woke up from his nap. I spent the morning organizing Katelyn's closet (i.e. throwing things away that she would never let me touch if she were here) with a pit in my stomach, missing my little Kate. I remember feeling this way in the days before Zachary was born...knowing that things between us were about to change. Not necessarily in a bad way. But change is sometimes hard. It's hard to let my little girl go...even this little bit. And I know this is silly, but I've spent all morning worrying and wondering about how she'll get her straw into the juice box hole at lunch time. She always needs me to do it for her, but I won't be there. She didn't seem too worried about it, though. Obviously this is harder for me than it is for her.