Did I cry? Yes. A lot? No. Last night was a 2-hour open house at his school just for his grade. He walked right into the classroom and started playing like it was nobody's business. This morning, however, was a slightly different story.
Everything was going great. Jon, Gus and I drove to school. We walked in. He showed us to his locker. He hung up his backpack. We walked in the classroom. Then he started gripping my hand tightly. The room was much more active than it was last night. There were kids there that we didn't see at the open house. There was one child who was crying, which made me feel terrible for him. So, I let Gus hold my hand, and at his request stand by him as he washed his hands before going off to play. Jon and I started backing away from the play-doh table (to give him some space) and he immediately turned around, walked towards us and asked, "Where are you going?" We reassured him that we weren't leaving yet and he went back to playing.
After a couple more minutes, it was time for us to leave. I was already emotional from seeing that other little boy crying, so when I approached Gus to tell him it was time for me to go, there was no stopping the tears that were there. He got a sad look on his face. He told me he didn't want me or Jon to leave ever. This, of course, was in between me giving him reassuring statements (you played by yourself last night and didn't pay attention to us at all, Dad and I can't stay because this school isn't for adults).
In the end, he let us leave after saying our good-byes without too much fuss, and I know he's going to have so much fun. And me, I'm doing okay. I miss him, but I've also been able to go to the grocery store, do dishes, catch up on email/fb and write this post all in 2.5 hours. I get to pick him up in an hour, where I will tell him how proud I am of him for being brave when we had to leave and let him tell me all about his new class and school.
|All ready to climb in the van to go to school.|