>First Grade.

>Here is sweet Punky in August of last year.

On her first day of school, it was all I could do to hold it together long enough to get her to her classroom. Once she was safely inside, my husband and I got back into the car and drove home. I walked into the house and burst into tears, sobbing because I knew that that day marked the end of an era, an era in which my daughter had constantly been by my side for the first five years of her life.

I wrote a lot last year about the difficulties I had letting Punky take her first baby steps toward independence. I wrote about feeling like an outsider as I walked into school on the first day and found myself surrounded by women squealing and hugging and chatting. I wrote about Bruiser’s inability to understand why his sister was leaving us for the better part of each day.

What a difference a year makes.

Here’s Punky on her first day of first grade. Can you even believe how much she’s grown?

This year, she was bursting with excitement to head back to school. This year, I walked into the building and found that I was one of the squealers, hugging other moms and catching up with them until my husband quietly reminded me three times that we needed to leave so that he could go to work. This year, I stayed only for a moment in my daughter’s new classroom, and when I told her I was leaving, she casually gave me a hug and a wave. This year, Bruiser seemed excited to have me to himself. We ran errands and he was my well-behaved little partner in crime– I was thrilled to realize that he’s finally old enough now to really do some things around town while his sister is in school each day.

This year, I didn’t shed a single tear– at least until I spent a few minutes reading all I’d written this time last year. At that point, I couldn’t help but cry a little. My daughter has changed so much in a year’s time and I can’t believe how quickly her childhood is passing.

But I’m soaking up this time with my kids. And I’m trying my best to fight mommy burnout and be present for every minute of it.

Because I know that at the end of the road, no job will ever come close to mattering as much as this one.