My five year old graduated from preschool on Friday, with a darling Galloping on to Greener Pastures party. Her teachers, two phenomenal women who both proudly claim the type-a personality, worked out every detail. Parents walked into the party and were greeted by a wall of Wanted posters. Each child had a mugshot wearing a cowboy hat on aged and singed paper including a cowboy gangster style name.

Country music was playing in the background, and a cactus-shaped cake awaited us in the back of the room.

The kids entered the room wearing paper cowboy hats, bandanas and sherrif badges. They sat in the front of the room on miniature chairs (I love me some miniature chairs!) and sang the alphabet song and the days of the week song. Then, in a surprise move, the kids stood up and sang along with Happy Trails to You.

Well, they didn't sing the lyric. They bobbed their knees and sang "boom-ba-da-da, boom-ba-da-da" over and over. They took it seriously, man. And it was one of the cutest things ever.

Saying goodbye to preschool was duck soup for my girl - she loved her time there, and the friends she made, and her wonderful teachers. But she's looking ahead to kindergarten. She is ready for it.

I was a little sad, though. Saying goodbye to the sweetness of the two-and-a-half-hour school day. The lack of homework. The adorable art projects. The wonderful teachers who made such a wonderful difference in my daughter's life - and that of my son before her. We're moving on to other pastures. Whether they will be as green remains to be seen.

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My son lost his upper front tooth yesterday after weeks of being loose. There is nothing grosser than a sideways tooth. Well, okay - there is nothing that makes me want to rip out a tooth more than one that is just hanging there. After spending three torturous days fighting the urge to ambush my son's face, the tooth came out.

Last night, he was sound asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He shares a room with my youngest, who at five is still probably a year away from any tooth losing fun. She's sighed as I kissed her goodnight and said "Mom, I'm going to sleep with a smile so the tooth fairy knows which kid lost the tooth."

I kissed her and waited until I got out of the room before cracking up.

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Finally, the kids had their school variety show. This is the fourth year in a row my oldest has been ticked that I didn't sign her up to participate. This year, she wanted to juggle two balls. Of course, she didn't practice anything, and didn't have a plan, and didn't bring the form home, but still TOTALLY MY FAULT. The day of the show came and went, and my daughter announced that next year she was TOTALLY doing the show.

"Well, what's your talent?" I asked.

My son spoke up - "It's called a VARIETY SHOW mom. People come to see VARIETY, not talent."

Heh.