We put all the things from his cubby into his diaper bag.
His extra Gerber puffs.
His baby tylenol.
His name tags.
His pictures that hung in the room.
His teacher told me that she had to rock him to sleep because she knew it would be the last time she got to rock him. When she said that, I almost lost it, but somehow managed to hold it together… barely.
He was their littlest baby you know… he started in there when he was just six weeks, remember?
As I walked out of the room, I fought tears. Another teacher yelled down the hall, bye Elias.
I could barely respond bye back.
As I pushed open the door and was hit by Nashville humidity, I started to cry.
My baby was growing up.
I know he is just going to be in the room next door, and that his loving teachers will be poking their head in all the time, but it isn’t the same.
I thought back to the story my mom likes to tell of me going into kindergarten, without looking back.
And I got it.
And I felt like a mom.
I called Matthew, bawling. He thought I had been in a car accident or someone died.
When I told him I was sad about Elias moving up, he thought I was being over emotional.
He’s such a guy, isn’t he?
So I called his sister Lis who has twin 4 year-olds and a 6-month old. She got it and cried with me. Thanks, Lis.
Do you get it? Have you cried over these types of milestones before?