On that morning, she got dressed up in her preppy best, ate her bowl of oatmeal all by herself, helped me pack up the water bottle in her backpack, stood on tiptoes to kiss her brothers and her daddy goodbye, hopped into the car with me, and eagerly walked into her very first classroom.
On that afternoon, I picked her up--exhausted, hungry, with stringy hair, and bleary-eyed from crying all day. Her, too.
This is not going to be easy. Not one bit.
