Always the go-getter, accomplishing milestones ahead of the curve. Always racing towards the invisible finish line.
How did we get here so fast? Once, tiny enough to rock to sleep in my arms while singing sweet lullabies and now, this sweet boy of mine hardly fits in my lap.
Yesterday, he picked out his outfit and dressed himself. He brushed his teeth and put on his sneakers. He slid his backpack-the Spiderman one that he had to have- onto his shoulders and I laughed because it was almost as big as him. And he turned around and smiled wide and said, "Okay, I'm ready to go." And I smiled back, but thought to myself, "I'm not." I didn't want to move even an inch from that spot, because I knew that when I did, we'd be stepping into a new phase of our lives together. School fast tracks our babies somehow. Before I know it, he'll be in first grade and then fifth grade and then high school. And there's nothing I can do about it.
When we got to the school, he hung his backpack on his special hook and went to sit down in his special seat and the teacher gave him some play dough to work with while the other kids got settled in. I squatted down beside him and he said, "Okay mom, you can leave now." Typical, independent Landon. He was happy. He was ready.
But I wasn't.
I walked out of the building and got into my car and I tried to be really brave. I thought about all of the wonderful things he will learn and the friends he will make and how happy I was that he was so happy. I didn't want him to cry or scream or beg me to stay. I wanted it to be easy, for both of us.
The tears began to flow before I could stop them. Something he tells me now on a regular basis: "I'm a big boy now, Mom."
I know, baby. You go on ahead. Eventually, I'll be ready too.