Heartbreak

When I was pregnant with Noah, mothers of all ages gave me advice. wanted and unwanted advice. Total strangers would stop me in the grocery store and either feel the need to tell me their labor story or tell me something about babies. seriously. Mothers would tell me how awesome it would be when my baby would sleep through the night and when i would see him roll over on his own for the first time. They told me how great it would be when I saw my baby take his first steps on his own, and when i heard him say "mama", my heart would melt forever. They went on to tell me I would have the Barney and Sesame Street themes stuck in my head for the next several years and i would watch every episode of Dora and Diego a hundred times. I would forever know every character in Star Wars, Spiderman, and G.I. Joe. I would be just as proud as my baby when he learned all his letters and could write his name on his own. I would be even more proud when he would whisper "I Love you, Mom" when tucking him into bed. Well they were right...about it all. BUT they left something out. something BIG. They forgot to tell me that even though I spent the last (almost) 5 years of my baby's life teaching him to grow, learn, and become independent, that i would burst into tears when signing him up for kindergarden. that's right....just burst into tears right in the front office. Everyone said it would fly by but nobody told me i would have such a hard time watching my little pumpkin grow up.