In Denial

Tomorrow is Jordan Ann's first day of preschool. I've packed her little backpack, filled with her fresh school supplies. I have her dress hanging in her room, next to her bloomers, pink sandals and pink bow. Before bed, I answered her 378 questions about what preschool would be like, who she would play with, what she would color and a practice round of the Pledge of Allegience (so she would remember how it goes "just in case they said it together".) But in the quiet of my house, I can't help but think that tomorrow is not happening. I am in complete and utter denial. Yes, I want her to go to school, learn, play, experience new things. But I also want her right next to me, under my wing as long as possible.

So tonight when I go in to check on her one last time, I just might get into the bed next to her, and think back on the days when it was just me and her all day everyday. I can remember playing face-to-face on the floor for tummy time, swaddling her every naptime and bedtime, watching her learning to play by herself in the pack and play, and finally when she was 16 1/2 months watching her decide it was time to finally take some steps. My, how far we've come in four short years. And now, preschool. Wow.

Don't blink. It's all happening way, way too fast.