Level One: Complete

So I was too sweaty and anxious trying to get this tiny little queen of procrastinating dressed and in the car to get an actual picture of her heading off to school (she needed to shut every door in the house and arrange her favorite toys on the couch to wait for her to return before we could go) but the above photo depicts what she’s doing right now, so as you can see her first day of preschool was a success. {Those are her very special “first day of big-kid school shoes”, which she decorated herself resting next to her. Check out my Sister-in-law’s adorable DIY featuring Dee.}

Lately, I can’t stop thinking about what big feet she has. When the hell did my kid get such big feet? I remember one day in early 2010 when my friend Kenny emailed me asking me if I could measure her then not-quite-four-month-old feet because his newborn baby’s feet were three inches long and he was pretty sure that was freakishly large. It turned out he was right, at nearly four months, Dee’s feet were three inches long exactly.  I measured then again just now and they’re over five inches long. Okay, that actually doesn’t seem like that much, but it is when you’re talking about MY BABY’s feet nearly doubling in size and now she’s all militant about choosing her shoes and she’s officially in preschool and everything.

Yesterday she came in to the backyard and announced “MOM! All you have to do is not say no.”  I never even figured out what she was talking about because she immediately started talking about riding the bus with her friend Renzo who lives in New York and she hasn’t seen since April, but holy crap, it’s like she understands life.

At Scott’s Aunt and Uncle’s the other day she was standing looking a bit lost in the dining room when our cousin Corey asked her what was wrong.  The problem?  She was very concerned about the animatronic Mickey and Minnie statues Aunt Cherie had out at Christmas time EIGHT MONTHS AGO — she wanted to know what had become of them.

And driving home the other night from Eric’s birthday, she suddenly sighed and said “Maddie passed away.  I really miss her.  I wish she could come back.”

She understands things. We talk. We hang out. She’s my constant companion, and now she’s going off to big kid preschool and I have to go back to grown-up stuff.

It’s heartbreaking and joy-inducing and incredible and crazy and terrifying and awesome and OMG it’s like I slid down the flagpole this morning because MY BABY STARTED PRESCHOOL.

Level One: Complete.

Feed Me Seymour