P-p-preschool!

Everyone else does it, and I'm giving in to peer pressure: the standard photo-by-the-front-door picture of a kid on his first day of school.

Fly! In preschool!

Just a few weeks shy of his 3rd birthday, Fly is going to school two days a week -- six hours total, really. His first day went perfectly. In fact, while I was handing off his snack bag and diapers (still not potty trained, ugh) with one of the teachers by the door to his room, he slipped in without me noticing. And then it was too late for me to take another picture or even say goodbye. Something about no clingy parents inside the school.

One day, you're carrying a child everywhere you go, and the next he's ambling into a preschool room without you even noticing. Gah! I didn't get to savor the moment.

But I didn't cry. No, I'm not emotional over the thought of Fly growing up and moving on. (Although he better not love his teacher more. I already consider her The Other Woman.) Maybe I'm a weird mother, but I am excited for him. And a little jealous. After looking at the daily schedule the teacher handed out, detailing everything from story time to water table play to music class to bathroom breaks right down to the minute, I kind of wish it was me going to preschool. It's a great gig. I want to play all day with super-cute little people!

Oh. Wait. I guess I kind of do that already. Except, you know, laundry and meal planning and dealing with home repairs and changing diapers and stuff.

While Fly is in school, I'll be playing with my little Junebug. Because soon enough, he'll be the one trotting off to The Other Woman when I'm not looking.

(Find me over at my new blog.)