I have a thing about firsts. It was a game we played after my husband and I got married. First breakfast as a married couple... First bridge we drove over as a married couple... It was silly, but rooted deeply in the way my mind works. If I wasn't careful, I'm pretty sure I could become possessed by a compulsion to document every event in my family's lives. (The first time I mopped the floors of my new home. The last elevator ride in the apartment building we use to live in. Etc.)
My son's first year on this planet was littered with these first and perfectly defendable ones (Oh the freedom to be neurotic). I tried to write them down as diligently as a sleep deprived-new mommy-zombie can be expected to, but I'm sure I missed a few (like the first time he snored). Since then the firsts have been copious yet slowly declining in frequency.
This week, however, we had a bona-fied, completely lagit, first to celebrate.
It would seem, on the outside, like a fairly isolated first really. Or, so I thought.
It's the boy going off to school, not me. It's only and evolution of his educational experience since he's been in preschool for two years prior.
But no. It's been huge. Huge for us parents mostly, I suspect. Don't get me wrong, the boy is excited (can you see it in his face) and he is adjusting well. For us parents, its a whole new world of PTA meetings, volunteering, networking with parents, grades, homework, tutoring, sports, fund raising, relationships with faculty, and so on... that will continue on for 13+ years. Wholly smokes!
Plus, as my husband so aptly identified, its a completely unpredictable and uncharted job change for me. Who the hell am I now?
I will figure it out, not to worry. In the meantime we are basking in the glow of surreal-ness that comes from finally meeting a rite of passage that has been many years in the making.
PS... Think I was kidding about the firsts obsession? Check it out: