I swore I wouldn't cry. I told myself I had done this two times and I was prepared for anything and everything, even that damn bus video circa 1982 that gets me every. single. time.
I watched Griffin walk with confidence into the classroom. As I said hello to a few of the parents I knew, I saw him out of the corner of my eye introducing himself to the classroom aide and shaking her hand. He them marched over to a group of boys playing in the corner and promptly inserted himself right into the middle of the pack.
Boy is not shy. Not at all. I barely saw him through the whole open house. (Compare this to Aidan who never let go of my leg and made me ride the bus for the ride along and well, it is a bit shocking to me.)
We made it through the open house and bus video without a tear from me. I was nostalgic and a bit sad, but I was happy to see Griffin confident in his soon-to be classroom. After the bus safety video, we went outside for the kids to take a ride on a real live bus. Griffin bounced onto the bus, thrilled at the whole experience. It was only when he found a seat next to a window, looked out to me with pride and waved hello that I felt the hot rush of tears sliding down my face.
My baby. My G. My sweet love of a boy. He may be confident. He may be an old soul. He may be a five year old with the vocabulary of a ten year old. But he is still my baby. He always will be.
I cried the whole bus ride. Griffin never stopped smiling.
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