Nicole feels

My baby started preschool today.

Sigh.

He was so excited as he got ready this morning. He had even planned his breakfast the day before...poptarts. I snapped some photos and we were off to the school.

Even though this was Parker's first day, it was the second day for his class (Pre-K on Tuesday and Thursday mornings). Upon entrance to the school, he immediately attached himself to my right leg, where he stayed until Rob pried him off, taking his hand and walking with him into class.

We stayed for about 10 minutes, both of us bribing him with a promise of hot, golden fries, me standing in the door taking more pictures and video-taping, Rob walking him around the room and assuring him that he would have a great time while his big, baby blues filled with tears.

We left him wailing mournfully.

"Mine did that till Christmas last year!" a staff member stated with a big smile as we, mean parents that we are, left our baby.

Sigh.

We returned three hours later to a smiling boy.

Relief.

"He cried for 45 minutes," his teacher told us, "Finally, I said, 'Parker, we're going to paint now. It's time to stop crying.' And he stopped."

As we left the school, Parker asked, "When do I go to school again? Tomorrow?"

At McDonald's, as we dined on 4-year-old fare of nuggets and fries, he told us that he met friends but didn't know their names.

"There are too many girls (pronounce 'guhls') in my class!" he exclaimed. "I don't want any girls in my class."

My baby is growing up.

Sigh.