The first day of school this year was truly momentous. Of course, at this age, it's always a big day, but our girls were particularly worried, as they started at a brand new school. With much sadness, we made the heavy decision to leave ISTP and begin at Santa Rita Elementary in our local neighborhood district. Keira took it especially hard, as she's leaving behind two years of familiarity, friends, and fun. In preparation for the transition, we tried tried to cast the change in a positive light -- "You'll get to know all the kids that live nearby! It'll be great to be able walk to school together! You'll love it, you'll see."

Ellie bought the story. Yet then again, it helped that she was entering kindergarten -- a major milestone to be celebrated. All summer, we received cheerful e-mails and flyers, attended happy playdates, and met excited families. Ellie also discovered that her newfound best friend, a little girl she met at YMCA camp, was going into kindergarten at Santa Rita, too! When they spotted each other at the playdate, they immediately ran into each other's arms, and the joy was tangible. Couldn't have asked for anything more fortuitous.

Keira, on the other hand, felt differently. On the night before the big First Day, she left this note posted on her door:

Can you hear my little heart breaking? Finding Keira curled up under her blanket, silently weeping, didn't help either. I could hardly hold back my own tears, but that's not what moms do. A good mama offers comfort, finds the right words to say, and inspires confidence. I certainly tried my best.

But inside? I was in agony.

I waited on pins and needles all throughout the next day, unable to stop replaying the image of Keira's anxious face as I cheerfully waved good-bye and she walked into the classroom.

Waited. Waited.

It was all I could do to keep my questions from tumbling out, trying to seem relaxed and not like an out-of-control interrogator over dinner. And you know what? Keira had a terrific day. She loved her teacher, was fascinated by the lessons, and told me that her classmates were nice.

I know about the dangers of helicopter parents. With my job, believe me, I know. That's not who I want to be. But as each year goes by, as my babies become part of an increasingly bigger and complex world, I find myself gaining a better appreciation for where that desire to hover comes from.

Ah, the heartaches and the bliss of being a parent.