Today, my son started preschool.

As the door of the classroom shut, I swear my heart made that Law and Order sound. Duh-dun. I choked back the sudden lump in my throat, took one last look at his newly buzzed scalp bent over a truck on the carpet, and then riverdanced my way to the van with Only! One! Child!

This morning, I was compelled to keep saying "Hey, buddy! You start preschool today!" The poor kid kept rolling his eyes and saying "Like I'm going to forget, Mommy" or "I KNOW, Mommy." He was trying to play it cool, but the fact that he stood by the front door, hand poised on the knob for 20 minutes, and when I told him he didn't have to stand by the door, he wanted to sit in the car and wait spoke volumes about his excitement level.

As I buckled his seatbelt, he whispered, "Mommy, I'm a little nervous." I smiled and he smiled back as I told him, "You're going to be just fine. You'll have so much fun!"

Where did it all go? The last 4 1/2 years have been a blur. I don't know whether I am happy about the cheerful way my children are bounding ahead, passing milestones with hardly a sideways glance. They seem designed for this type of passage - finding the next stepping stone in the stream is fun, and even if their shoes get wet, they have a blast. They shout with joy as they leap, calling out "Look at me, Mommy! I'm a frog! Come on, Mommy! Jump with us!"

And then there's me, waxing nostalglic about the past and trying to find a jump off point from behind the reeds, one that will safely deliver me across the rushing water so that I can celebrate fording the Nile.

There was a subtle difference in my son when I picked him up. He proudly handed me his art project and talked non-stop to the van.(this is THE SAME as always, hah!) He loved being at school. He loved being away from home. Sigh. He was also happy to come home and snuggle, but my baby boy is beginning the journey that will lead him further and further from my apron strings.

Today, preschool. A week from now, kindergarten registration. Come September, I'll be walking two children to elementary school.

And in 20 years - I will be sitting on a beach with my dh and a pitcher of margaritas, waxing sentimental over all the years, the good and the bad, yet to come.