Tomorrow is the big day.  The Kid and I are headed over to his preschool for orientation.  This is it people, his final year of preschool.  After this, do you know what is expected of me?  I’m expected to put him on a school bus and send him away for 8 hours.  I’m sure by then, I will be a swinging door of emotions.  One minute, giddy over the endless possibilities of accomplishment during a QUIET day and the next, devastated that my baby is leaving me.  I won’t lie, I’ll be a mess, it’s a year away and I’m a mess thinking about it now. 

Sadly, my kid loves his school.  He is excited to get up and go.  Why can’t he be that excited over Walmart?  I suppose it’s better for him to be excited and willing to go instead of one of those kids that is screaming and hanging at the knees of their parents.  That was never my kid.  Never has been and I’m pretty sure it never will be.  It’s a little late in the game to decide that you want to be tied at Mommy’s apron. 

 So, tomorrow morning at 10 am, I will bravely trek the 4 minutes away to our preschool so he can meet his teacher and classmates.  I won’t cry, I promise.  I’ll save that for Monday.