So, little Miss Sammy D started school. She pretty much loves it... though I kind of love the fact (while it sort of really breaks my heart) that she always asks me to stay and she is the only girl who runs out and first asks me and Landy what we did while she was gone...
It is a lovely little school, a couple of blocks away, and as perfect for her first start as I could hope, but I still pretty much hate sending her. It seems unnatural not having her here. I still cry as I take the side path out of the parking lot so that no one sees my tears as I walk away with an unbalanced double jogger. I call my Mummy and sob, call my hubby and pretend its pregnant hormones at their worst, but even as I type this and she is fast asleep just a staircase away, I have puddles in my eyes because I just can't stand the growing up and moving on part. I seriously never thought I would be like this. Really, truly... never. I make no secret about the fact that I aint no newborn person. I find those first few weeks, even months ever so draining and difficult. Yes, I love the tinyness, the miracle, the you-are-my-everything, may you always need me like you do right now, but I REALLY love the giggles, milestone adventures and tangible, I choose you kind of loving of the later years.
Is it a first born kind of thing? Maybe. Is it just that my sweet Sammy is nothing... NOTHING but a pleasure... probably. But man, I miss her when she's gone.
And so does her kid brother. As seen here on day one. I kid you not. This 8x10" of Sammy D really did go with him to her bed where he sat and muttered Mawah...Mawah... for several minutes.
Sniff ... sniff....
I love you two too much.
