bittersweet.

This morning, I dropped off G (and Ava) at Vacation Bible School.  It's Georgia's first experience being dropped off for school (or anywhere for that matter.)  And it's kind of A BIG DEAL.  Last night, she excitedly chatted about it with me and her big sister, picked out one of her favorite dresses, said she wanted her hair done in "ponies."  And then firmly stated "Momma, you stay at church school WITH ME."  Except, no I wouldn't be and she knew this.

Georgia is not in the least bit shy or reticent.  She doesn't cling to me in social situations.  She says 'Hi!" to other shoppers as we pass in the aisle of the grocery store.  Her smile is forever ready to share.  She walks up to complete strangers to ask them their names and start conversations.  She also runs away from me in the shoe department of Nordstom or down our tree lined street.  (See ya, bye!)  But she knows I'm following.  Always.  G is a momma's girl of a different sort,  because although she's fiercely independent, strong-willed, vivacious; she is at the exact same moment "my baby" not only in my eyes, but hers as well.  Of course she's spent time with grandparents and our babysitter, but for the most part, Georgia and I spend all of our waking moments together, and we (mostly ;) like it that way.

Leaving her today was harder for me than I thought it would be.  I was excited for Georgia to be, in her words, "a big girl" experiencing new activities and new people.  I was also looking forward to a morning of "me time," spent in my empty quiet house.  But as she sat in the first pew of our church in her pink polka dotted dress, her blonde ponytails lightly grazing her shoulders, and we said goodbye, her eyes weren't the only ones that became full with tears.  I choked mine back, kissed her once more, smiled, and rushed down the center aisle, knowing that she and I would both be fine and that hiding my small sense of sadness over this first goodbye was best for the both of us.  This was, after all, only the first of many firsts to come... 

I won't lie.  I hid at the back of the church, chatting unobtrusively with another mom.  By the time I walked out the double doors of the church a few minutes later (OK-twenty!), she was happily sitting on one of her teacher's laps, smiling her Georgia smile.  And I was smiling too.