There must have been something in my eyes...

It started out like any normal day. My alarm clock (AKA Kristi) went off at 5:00 AM. I arose tired once more with a bad case of the Mondays. The sounds of the bottomless pit known as Grayson's stomach could be heard from down the hall, wailing to be satisfied with the greatness of milk and waffles. Man that kid can eat! After getting myself ready I moved into Abi's room, as I had many times before. Kristi apparently had already made an unsuccessful attempt at waking Sleeping Beauty from her comatose dream land of rainbows and unicorns. As Abi arose, also apparently with a bad case of the Mondays, we cordially smiled and shared a hug both likely wondering, "Why can't we just sleep in and survive off of being awesome." Unfortunately, awesomeness neither contributes to society nor keeps the electricity on. As we drug ourselves down the hall to the kitchen we both knew that this was no ordinary day. Today was just a little different. Today was Abi's first day of kindergarten.

In all honesty I knew that today was different and I was excited and proud of my little girl who was now going to "big school." However, I had already made it through Kindergarten Roundup and Meet the Teacher night with little more than the slight feeling of satisfaction that I had managed to keep my Sweets alive for the past five years (more than I can say for my vegetable garden) and, in all candor, happiness that I no longer had to pay for day care. Surely today's event would not be much different than those things. I would keep my composure with relative ease being the strong rock for my nervous little girl and my heartbroken wife to lean on.

So after breakfast we took off with one last request from mommy; to take lots of pictures since she would have to be in her room greeting her 3rd graders. Our ride to school was uneventful as we discussed why the Jonas Brothers sound like they're crying when they sing and why Hannah Montana is not always the best role model. (We're more of an ICarly household) Again, still just another normal day with a little excitement about school. Nothing could have prepared me for what was about to happen.

We rolled up to the rapidly filling parking lot of James and Margie Marion Elementary. I went to open Abi's door and as she stepped out of the car with book bag in hand my heart skipped a beat. Thinking it was just nostalgia or maybe the coffee I had just guzzled I gathered myself and moved on to the front of the school to take pictures. There we sat eagerly waiting for the front doors to open. I was still okay, still proud, still happy, but still thinking this was somewhat a normal day. The doors opened and the mob of parents and kids shuffled in. We quickly made a detour to go give mommy a hug and a first day of school Starbucks surprise. Finally, camera in hand we moved on through the halls with flashes going off everywhere as if the kids were celebrities being chased by paparazzi. As we moved closer to the beehive themed entrance of Ms. Hall's door that skipping heartbeat thing started again. Only this time it didn't stop. With slightly shaking hands I took one more shot with Abi at the door. Then it happened. I can only describe the physical feeling as the same feeling I felt when a 300lb+ lineman named Dustin Holmes laid me out in high school two-a-days. My breath was literally taken from me. In a matter of nanoseconds the past five years flashed through my mind and something must have flown into my eyes as they started to water just a bit.

Okay so I lie, I was crying like two year old girl. All the while this strong rock's heart broken wife was 100yds away in her own classroom unable to console me. In addition my "nervous little girl" was standing in the doorway now, arms folded, saying, "Daddy, hurry up with the picture, I need to go sit down." I walked her to her chair and gave her one last hug that very likely cracked a rib or two. Unlike last week's introductory events, she would stay and I would leave with nothing more than a long car ride to work to calm down.

I used to think that my mission as a parent was to ultimately guide my children to be mature enough to leave our home. Today I feel like I need my children to guide me to a place where I can bear to let them go.

Sweets, Daddy loves you immensely. I am so proud of who you are and who your are going to be. Never lose your innocence. Never lose your creativity. Go take the world by storm and show them all that God has created you to be. Remember to do as I say and not as I do and never think of any day as just ordinary.