Or me. The time is upon me.
Rory’s first day of school is tomorrow and so far I have been able to keep my shit together, but God knows what kind of hot mess is going to be stumbling out of the preschool doors after drop off.
I’m purposely going to have my running gear on to make myself go for a run so I am distracted by thoughts of some fellow 3 year old taking advantage of the new kid, who just happens to be comfortably wearing size 18-24 month shorts. My little man…off to school.
Tonight when I put Rory to bed, I read him The Kissing Hand. Some family friends gave the book to Kamryn a few years ago and I used to read it to her all the time. I cannot get through that book without tearing up, though. So tonight, through blurry vision and a shaky voice, Rory learned about The Kissing Hand. I kissed his little left hand and he giggled, but then held it to his cheek, just like in the book. I am 100% screwed tomorrow.
I had to fill out a ton of paperwork before Rory could start school and one of the questions asked me how I would describe my child’s personality. Heh…like I’m going to be honest. He is the most loving and friendliest little boy. He is very compliant, always listens and can read at a 5th grade level. As Kamryn would say, “Mommy, that’s P.S.” I should have just given them the pictures below. Damn! I just remembered I have to bring a picture of him tomorrow for his cubby.