Not ready

I wasn't ready for this.

E's first dance recital, post to follow.

Or this.

Kindergarten Tour

And especially not this, which ambushed me from Elle's cubby one afternoon with absolutely no warning whatsoever.

Seriously, I used to mock the concept of preschool graduation. It's preschool, people. But now I'm the teary-eyed mess just thinking about my baby, ahem, preschooler, ahem pre-kindergartner closing this chapter in her life. And it hasn't been insignificant. She will be graduating with kids she's known spent 8-10+ hours a day with since she was 12 weeks old. 

Nothing bonds you like sharing diapers when your Mom forgets to restock your supply. Or comparing spit-up distances (insert proud mother-of-the-incontestable-winner face here). Or learning to share. To bite. Not to bite. Celebrating birthdays and big girl panties. Pledging to marry Nick. And Ryan. 

Hugs upon hugs upon hugs. 

We've spent almost 5 years with these kids, their parents, and their wonderful teachers. I know whether I'm on time for work based on which minivans are in the parking lot. It has become our routine, a reassuring familiarity throughout this unfamiliar chaos that is first-childom. I couldn't have asked for a better place to prepare Elle for "big school" and though she'll still be there for after-school care but it won't quite be the same. One more step toward the dreaded growing up...
So if you hear sniffling in the audience at preschool graduation, take pity on the over-sentimental mom who used to think those things were a joke...