First day jitters

I see a glimmer of nervousness in her eyes, and I fight to keep my own fears buried deep inside so that she doesn't see.  I want her to see only my pride and excitement for her, and save my tears for after the bus pulls away.

She is such a feisty presence in our home, and yet she is slow to warm up in new situations.  She hides her shyness behind a stony face and an adamant shake of her head when someone unfamiliar tries to talk to her.

How I long for her to be full of smiles and laughter, to be engaged, to find her place and have friends, to be herself.  May she love school as I did; as her brother does.  I hope the two of them have lots to talk about on the short ride home, and stories they will eagerly compete to share with us.  I pray that they will watch out for one another and feel comforted in each other's presence.

She has always seemed bigger and older than her age, perhaps because her brother has always been the small one, or maybe because of her large personality.  But today, she seems too small for the world that lies ahead.  I know she is ready, but am I?  My last baby, the one who holds my heart, my mini-me...

Each milestone seems so large now and there's no going back (not that I would want to, but each new beginning is also an ending).  I hold on to hope that the new beginnings are even more beautiful that the ones that have come before.

She lights up with a big smile as the bus turns the corner, and without us even having to tell him, Brady takes her hand and they walk together into a new beginning.
I hope she doesn't miss me as much as I'll miss her.