My baby boy is growing up, he started preschool this week. On Wednesday morning I drove Turner to school, the whole trip watching for Lil Monster's horns. Lil Monster must have been sleeping in, because Turner is who I dropped off and Turner is who I picked up.
On the way to school I caught myself getting teary eyed. I also took notes on how hyper paranoid I am. How could I, Queen of the Universe, let Turner go and be taken care of by mere mortals? They might not make him wash his hands before he eats, they might let him jump off of the monkey bars, they might let him eat too much sugar, or pick his nose. Despite my fears he had a wonderful day and is ready to go back tomorrow.
I will learn to enjoy my new alone time with Tate instead of spending it looking at the clock. I will even enjoy that Turner now has a part of his life that doesn't involve me.
Turner and I came home on Wednesday, ate lunch, had a cookie and we were talking about his day. Out of no where my son, my not even three year old little boy, farted so loudly I thought it must have blown the back of his pants to smithereens. After asking him if he was alright I started to laugh, after all when is a toot not funny? Turner looked right at me and said " I was just too busy to toot today". This made me fall on the floor. I asked what he meant. He said he was just so busy that he forgot he had to toot. I hope once I get used to our new little schedule that I fill the time up so much that I too will be too busy to toot.
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