It's official--he's in elementary school now.

Yesterday Landon started kindergarten. He had a great day and didn't seem to flinch at the new experience. He was a little quiet at the bus stop, but he's always been that way--inquisitive, checking out what's going on, seeing how he should be acting around these older kids, etc. I think he was a little nervous, but he never once voiced a fear or any anxiety. He walked up those big steps in the bus like he had just boarded it the day before. I was proud of my little guy. Very proud.

Now, I'm not going to pretend this had no affect on me. I didn't cry hysterically or carry on. However, I went inside after that bus left our street instead of staying out to chit-chat with the neighbors. I went on the back deck and watched that big yellow vehicle leave our neighborhood with my first born on it. Tears fell then. Silently, actually. I don't usually do that. If I cry, I usually CRY. No, this time, I just had sweet tears falling down my cheeks. I was holding Lilah, and each time I kissed her, I have to admit, I wasn't kissing her. I was kissing an eight month old Landon. I was thinking about the day he was born and how this momentous occasion would change him in small ways every day. The older he gets, the further away from me he will go. As I've said before, I'm okay with that. I know I'm just a supporting actor in his play of life. However, I'm his mommy, and I'm pretty sure I deserve those silent tears. Even his dad got a little choked up, so I must not be too crazy (okay, okay, the jury is still out on that one).

Landon--you did amazing on your first day of school. I could not have been any prouder! You astonish me with your confidence. I love you up to the moon and back, kid!

Walking to the bus stop with his biggest admirer

And the next chapter begins...

***I've had to catch up on a few posts tonight, so keep scrolling down.***