My older daughter started 1st grade today. It was such a mix of emotions. I told Mr. Little to plan to bring her to my house, OUR old house and I would cook breakfast, then we could all walk her over to school together after some pictures. I couldn't help but be reminded of how painful this same event was for me last year. I had just come off of three months of solo parenting and was about to start a brand new job. I was broken hearted beyond belief, not eating, not sleeping and overall falling apart. But this year was so different. I was confident, successful, dare I say happy? I woke up early to go for a run before they were set at arrive at 7:45. I needed to clear my head of any cobwebs that would be in there taking up space. Came home, showered, dressed, blow dried my hair and starting cooking.
Pancakes and turkey bacon. Chocolate milk to drink--easy, delicious.
We sat, made small talk and answered questions from our almost six year old about why we were all having breakfast together if her Daddy and I weren't married anymore---it was a lot before 8 a.m.!
But we survived. The food, the small talk, the questions, the walk, the pictures, the goodbyes and well wishes.
I left feeling so proud of myself, for my journey, for how far I've come and for how far I know I still have to go.
I am growing, changing, learning, living my life. No longer just going through the steps, but actually living---and it feels awesome.
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