Why Moms Cry

Well, I held it together just fine yesterday until sometime approaching the midnight hour. The husband and I were talking about the day, he got up to do something, and when he came back he looked at me with an expression of sincere concern.

"Are you all right? Are you sick? Did I say something wrong?"
"Nope," was all I could come up with, "just a little choked up, I guess."

I was thinking about those last thirteen years of school (gotta count kindergarten, you know!). The first time we took him to school to meet his teacher. The first time I saw that little head looking out the school bus window. The first time I gave him a detention.

Ha! Didn't expect that last one, did you? I was his fourth grade teacher at the time and that particular year is full of great memories and some rough ones. In fact, I taught all my kids for at least one year (the middle was lucky enough to have me for three... yikes!). It isn't easy being mama and teacher, but that's another story.

Back to the oldest, though, school -the academic part, anyway- has never been his thing. He's had some ups and downs and close calls, but you never knew a kid with a better attitude (and you could ask anyone who knows him to confirm that). He got a little nervous towards the end of this year and stated what has become my all-time favorite line(s):

"I am learning what regret is like. If I would have known how this would feel now [waiting on a particular final grade], I would have tried a lot harder in the beginning."

He did it, though. He buckled down and pulled through and walked a stage yesterday. He told me he came across one teacher who had helped him a lot this year and said, "Mr. B seemed really glad to see me graduate." The oldest shook the man's hand and thanked him because that's the kind of kid he is...

But he's not a kid anymore, is he?

He's a high school graduate who bought himself an ipad with his graduation money and shortly thereafter had his first minor fender-bender on the way home. That was a first for me, too. When the phone rang and the first word I heard was a distressed sounding "Mom?" ... well, it's no wonder yesterday was a toil-on-the-emotions kinda day.

And why I was little choked up by the time my head hit the pillow.

Very, VERY proud of you, son.