Moving Up, or Why Mommy Has Been a Crybaby All Week

On Monday, I took Malcolm to school.  I knew that he would be moving up to the 4 year old class.  I didn't think anything of it.  As soon as I walked in there and saw Ms. Lulu, his teacher from this past year, it hit me.  She wasn't his teacher anymore.  They had moved his cubby.  He has to sign his own name on the sign up sheet.  He has a new teacher.  (Ms. Machine as he calls her.  I'll let you speculate.)  I barely made it to the car before the tears hit.  What am I going to be like when he goes to kindergarden?  I don't know if the firsts are harder with your first one or your last one.  Who am I kidding, they are all hard.

Anyway, about a month ago, the preschool had its spring show.  I'll tell you what, Malcolm has no qualms about being on stage.  He was into it, too.  He knew all the moves and all the words to all the songs.  He wasn't the kid standing there picking his nose (surprisingly so, as that is one of his favorite pastimes.)  He wasn't hiding or crying or facing the wrong direction.  He was on it.  And he looked so comfortable up there.  Anyway, here are some pictures...