Ella: Mom you can just drop me off right here.
Me: Whhhattt? (equal parts whine and panic)
Ella: Come on Mom, I am in second grade, I am way to big to have you walk me into school.

And then she gives me that look. That look that says - I am not willing to deal with your over-protective neurosis right at this particular moment. And she is right, I know she is right. Its just that she was my baby like five minutes minutes ago. "Just a second" I shriek out the window as I fumble for the camera on my phone. And this is it, the only first day of school photo I manage to snap. Out the window of my minivan. Mom fail. She already seems so big, and so far away from me. As I round the corner at the bottom of the hill it hits me and the tears start to fall. They surprise me because if I am honest I have been counting down the days. I mean, despite summer camps, and swimming, and trips to Nana's I am apparently the most boring person on the face of the universe. Please second grade teacher take this child off my hands and teach her some manners and appreciation if you don't mind. But the tears come anyway. I call my sister who is in the hospital holding a precious three day old baby, Rosemary, against her chest. "Brace yourself", I manage through hicuppy sobs, "you will be sending her to second grade in about five minutes".