No More Pencils, No More Books

I dropped Katie off for her last day of first grade today. For someone who is not sentimental about much, today has hit me hard. It's amazing to look back and see what a difference a school year has made. She reads chapter books independently, has lost and re-grown teeth, shot up like a Lady Vol basketball player, and, well, grown up. It's becoming more and more difficult to tell her tennis shoes and mine apart these days. We compare playlists on our iPods. We talk about God and fairies and she asks some heavy questions and I don't always know how to answer them. It's scary. I know moms with older kids probably are thinking, "Just wait!" I know, I know, but this year has given me whiplash with all the new things that she has done and thought and experienced. I remember that little person who would pause at the BlueGrass school door and look like she wished for all the world that she could jump back into the car. Now, she walks in greeting friends, waving at other girls, and blushing when a cute boy says "hi" to her. Now all of a sudden, it's me who is fighting back tears and wishing that she would just jump back into the car and be a little bitty girl all over again.