by Kathy Clark Smith

Created on: September 23, 2009   Last Updated: April 17, 2012

As I sit here, my emotions are whirling, my stomach is doing flip-flops, a lump is in my throat and I don't know whether to laugh or cry. It's the first day of school.

Despite that this is my thirteenth year of taking children to their first day of the new school year, I am still not immune to the emotion of it all. My youngest boys have entered grades three and four and long past the separation anxiety . . . for them at least. Each year I surprise myself with the gamut of emotions that I feel walking out of the school and back home to a quiet house. Part of me wants to jump with delight and another part of me panics at the realization that another year has begun. Along with my children getting older, so am I.

As I walked my boys to their new classes, the school hallways were full of energy and excitement. I remembered nostalgically when I saw a teary-eyed mother drop her child off at school for the first time, propelling me back to that day years ago when I came home and cried for a morning at the milestone we had just entered. I saw the cluster of women making plans for a communal coffee to celebrate their slid into another year of routine. I watched as the little girl sat on the floor crying and her inexperienced mother desperately trying to console her. The sound of children chattering, lockers slamming and teachers greeting parents and children alike danced in the air, electrifying the atmosphere.

I walked my nine year old to his room where he ran in and sat down next to a friend he hadn't seen all summer. With a fleeting glance he said good bye to me and turned away to reacquaint himself with his schoolmate. I stood there in a moment of paralysis, suddenly lost with the realization that I had been dismissed. Leaning over for one last kiss, I saw the impatience on my son's face and I slowly backed out of the room, the familiar lump beginning to form.

I searched for my eight year old and we walked together to his new classroom. I wrapped my arms around his head and pressed him to my chest as I leaned and kissed him on his head. I felt his arms circle my waist and the lump grew bigger.

I kissed him again as he leaned back and looked at me earnestly. "Sometimes the first day of school is a real pain in the ass", he announced wryly.

I instantly snapped out of my maternal longing and stifled my laugh as I half-heartedly reprimanded him for his words. I realized at that moment that my whirling emotions were just that . . . mine. My children were entering a new

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