Mason and Moira had their first days of school this month.
Mason entered the first grade. I remember when he was born in a flurry of chaos; entering the world eight weeks early and worrying all of those who love him. I remember one incident in particular. Matt and I were up for our nightly visit with him in the NICU and he was running a fever. The nurse informed us that we could not hold him and that they were going to do an LP (lumbar puncture). On an infant it has higher risks. She told us that if he took a turn for the worse, they would give us a call. That night, Matt and I were beside ourselves with worry. On his first day of school, I had that same worry. Have we done enough for him to go off and be a decent, respectable, young man with manners and poise. I know we have done our best, but he is still my little boy and I worry about him. He will be fine, but his parents may not!
Then there is Moira. The one who came on time and has been a whirling dervish ever since. She does not take a back seat to anyone and let's you know it. She walked at 8 months, spoke clearly at 14 months and continues to keep Matt and I on our toes today; she in only 3 1/2 years old. She walked into preschool, found her desk and told mom and dad she was fine and to have a nice day. We both walked out of the class with tears in our eyes ( I don't know if it was the fact that our little girl was off to school or if we realized that we won't get to do this again). That is our precious girl. Cute as can be, but watch out. We love her so much.