Opening the cage.

My big boy is going to kindergarten on Wednesday, and I'm doing my best not to freak out. On the one hand--allow me to be frank--his constant* rhyming of non-words is revealing a homicidal tendency in me I didn't know existed. So in addition to all the positives I expect him to experience from school, we will also benefit from a little time apart. On the other hand, thus leaves the train from the station: slow at first, but gradually building into an inexorable, unstoppable pace--which ultimately (roughly thirteen years down the road) leads to an independent Caleb.

Which is what we want. True? True.

And yet I'm freaking out. The evidence for this is that every time I feel nervous, I tell Caleb how awesome kindergarten is, resulting in the following conversation (which he has had multiple times):

Adult: Kindergarten! Well, isn't that going to be fun!

Caleb [apathetic]: That's what my mom keeps telling me.

It is fun.

*And by "constant" I mean never-ending, perpetual, and grating. And always followed by a fake laugh. Thinking about it just made my left bottom eyelid twitch.