So Begins 20 Years of Education

Today was LO's first day of school.

I dropped him off this morning at the Montessori toddler program for his first four-hour day in a classroom(ish) environment.

Since J and I fail at being parents of a first-born, there are no pictures of the young man on this momentous occasion. I do have some pictorial approximations of LO's attitude this morning, however.

While getting ready, eating breakfast, being fastened into his car seat, driving to Montessori, and getting unfastened from his car seat, LO was his usual happy-go-lucky self:

Then we arrived at school. Immediately, LO realized that something was up. Though he has visited this wonderland of toddler engagement and joy on more than one occasion (and actually had fun on the most recent one--Sunday's open house), this was outside of LO's usual expectations for the morning. Dissatisfaction crept in:

I had a great number of items to drop off this morning, from crib sheets, blankets, and a pillow for nap time, to diapers and changes of clothing for inevitable diaper incidents, to a toothbrush intended to make me feel like a completely incompetent parent for only brushing LO's teeth at night (when we remember) rather than after each meal, to a framed picture of our family so that LO will remember that we still love him and plan to eventually pick him up again, presumably after he has forgotten what we look like.

So while I normally drop off LO and head out the door immediately so that the blood-curdling shrieks will end as soon as the child is aware that I'm completely out of ear shot and he can get started with the business of thoroughly enjoying himself until he hears my step on the door to retrieve him, at which point the blood-curdling shrieks will resume, this morning I had quite a number of things to get settled.

When I laid my purse on the floor, LO grabbed it and dragged it back to me, since Mom having her purse means we're leaving this place.

When I placed LO's diaper bag in his cubby, the child removed it from said cubby and began pulling it along behind him like the world's saddest hobo stick, since the diaper bag is another good indicator that we are not staying. So, the sad young man was still dragging his diaper bag around the classroom this morning when it occurred to him that he was staying and Mama was not. It looked a little something like this, except he had a death grip on his diaper bag:

I leave to pick him up in a half hour. I hope to discover that he had a wonderful time. I hope that there was no need for his teachers to point out the picture of me and J and remind him of who we are. I hope he did not throw a full on temper tantrum all day long.

I hope he'll realize how much I missed his sunny face.