...Yeah, that's me. I think there's something really wrong with me, like I don't truly love my kids or something. I mean, shouldn't a mother who is sending her baby off to preschool feel sad or something? Shouldn't I be sent into emotional turmoil and mama bear claws of protection flare?
But no, none of that happened yesterday. I wasn't one bit hit with a nervous stomach ache as Robin boldly walked up to the preschool door. I was just....happy. Not happy that, WooHoo, my life's my OWN now. But just happy for this next chapter in life - for all of us. And, sheesh, she's been soooo excited about starting preschool, it would seem a shame for me to be sad when she is so stinkin' happy. I'm happy for her. I'm happy our lives extend beyond ourselves into the community.
So, if being happy that my kids have this life of school makes me a bad mom then, I confess. But if rejoicing with those that rejoice and strategically launching my arrows into our planet (with MUCH prayer) is OK, then maybe I'm not such a bad mom after all.