Ready or not

The boys went to sleep surprisingly well last night and woke up bright and early this morning like it was Christmas day.  


We had set up a "morning routine" for Tristan and printed it out (get dressed, brush hair, brush teeth, eat breakfast, put on shoes, get backpack & lunch).  It will need to be modified a little (oatmeal ALL OVER first outfit of the day) but he did GREAT and was so proud to be doing all of these things on his own.  Apparently kindergartners are very mild mannered.  This will be a welcome change if it is permanent.  


Pierce was bouncing off the walls with excitement.  He could hardly sit still to eat breakfast.  He started getting himself dressed and got his underwear, socks, and shoes on and then said he was ready to go.  I told him he may be missing a few key pieces.  


Both boys marveled at how handsome they were in the mirror.  


They posed for pictures in the backyard although I was then given FIRM INSTRUCTIONS about where I would NOT be allowed to take pictures (namely, right outside Tristan's classroom).  Also, "DO NOT CRY MOMMY.  It's embarrassing."  Even Cassie knew something was going on.  She sat and posed for pictures too, just in case it might help the situation.  


Drive to school was uneventful although long.  Lots of traffic these first few days.  We still managed to get to school on time.  


Parked and started to walk towards the school.  Tristan, absolutely mortified, could not believe I was still bringing my camera after all of his repeated warnings.  I told him quite loudly that I didn't care what he said I was going to take pictures of their first day of school and he was just going to have to deal with it.  Everyone under four feet tall rolled their eyes and all the grown ups laughed.  


T saw one of his teachers just inside the doors and wanted to go up with just her, probably to avoid the inevitable picture taking scene.  I gave up, professed my love in an extremely loud, boisterous voice, and proceeded to walk Pierce to his classroom.  


Pierce immediately put up his lunchbox and backpack and found the fishing toys.  


And, just like that, my little boy was grown up.  I told him I loved him (in a calm, controlled voice since he hadn't told me how embarrassing it would be) and walked out the door.  


Now I'm home, breathing in the quiet and wondering what to do.