Gulp.Gulp.

That's me trying to swallow the huge lump in my throat.

Watching The Boy run down the path ahead of me, playing "Jump," (his game where you have to jump over everything in your path like leaves or sticks or bird poop) and turning back to check if I'm jumping.

I'm looking at this boy ahead of me, with these long almost-gangly legs, the beginnings of broadening shoulders and a skinny frame just like his daddy, with his ears sticking out from his baseball hat and his tanned neck and I can't believe it's here.

We just went to a kindergarten orientation meeting, where they asked him to count and cut and write some letters and did a vision and hearing screening. (For inquiring minds, he passed the vision and hearing, says he knew all the letters, and they stopped his counting at 100, although he could have gone on all day!) But back up - KINDERGARTEN.
I was in a school library, talking with the principal and filling out some huge health information form that asked me for details about my pregnancy, his birth, and developmental milestones, asked me to describe him in three words, tell them his hobbies, interests, if he had any talents?

TALENTS? What??

Like that he's a champion swimmer or speaks three languages or can juggle while riding a unicycle?

I wrote that he can count way past 100, tell jokes, and hit a ball out of our yard.

It's fine that they're gathering information about kindergarteners. I understand they want an idea of who will be walking in on September 2. But I was literally sweating while I filled out the form. Asking me to dig into the memory files back to 2002 was dangerous, because all the while I had to keep my happy brave face on for him, put up with his nervous, slightly annoying behavior while we waited. And I had to do it without sniffling or crying or collapsing into a heap, screaming, "Where did my baby go?!!!??"

On the way out, we stopped at the school playground where he proceeded to swing across the monkey bars. These weren't any new fancy "build your self-esteem, child of the 21st century" monkey bars, these were OLD SCHOOL. It's the older part of the playground, serious metal, high up, and looooong. And he did it. About 10 times. With the callouses to prove it.

Take that, monkey bars. Kindergarten, watch out!