Kindergarten

Pretty much from the time I brought my elder home from the hospital, I was preparing myself for the first day of kindergarten. I knew that I would feel a giant lead weight in my stomach as I watched her walk into school and out of my clutches for good. Well, for two and a half hours at least. I pictured myself at home with my little one, making cookies as I awaited the elder's arrival home from school.

She would run toward my car as I waited for her in the pickup line. She would throw her arms around me hug me as if she never was going to let go. She would then hop in her car seat and begin chattering excitedly about all the new and wonderful things she learned on her first day in kindergarten. She would hungrily gobble up the oatmeal raisin cookies (her personal favorite) I made for her while she was at school. She would thank me endlessly for making her favorite cookies.

How's that for a fantasy?

Here's the reality.

I had a (private) countdown to the first day of kindergarten. I watched with pride, a smidgen of sadness and a great deal of happiness as she walked into school. Yes, I took pictures and video. Yes, I waved enthusiastically until she disappeared into the classroom.

But, silently, I was shrieking, "Hallelujah! Peace and quiet!"

Noticeably absent was the aforementioned lead weight in my stomach. In fact, I felt the lead weight leave my stomach and float lazily and happily up into the sky.

Is it wrong?