Natalie has left the building

The Madam is at school.  She was mostly okay this morning, saying she wanted to go to Target to pick out her "brave girl present" rather than earn it by going to school.  She picked out her clothes, ate breakfast, let me take her picture, walked into school wearing her backpack and was basically fine.  Until I said it was time to go into the classroom, that is.  Then her little face crumpled and my heart felt like it was going to explode.  I picked her up, promised I'd be there when school was over, carried her into the room, kissed her and handed my precious girl over to Mrs. B.

I left there and went to Target to get her present.  Yes, she cried and clung to me at that final moment together but it's been over an hour and she is still there so I think she deserves it.  I have done many brave things with tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat.  Her sadness at letting go of me doesn't make her any less brave in my eyes.

So, for me, this morning was more painful than my last dental procedure but less traumatic than my D&E.  For her, I'll get her take on the morning when I pick her up in 89 minutes.  Yes, I'm counting.  Nattie isn't the only one having trouble being independent.

I have never heard silence like the quiet of my children's absence.  It's unsettling, like an aural glimpse into my future.  Time to shake off the blues with my old skool rap mix, the one I haven't listened to since Jack was old enough to potentially repeat the expletives.  Word up.