There we were at 8.50am this morning. My husband and I suffering from butterfly tummies, dry mouths and a hot lump in the throat.
She skipped into school without a backwards glance. Just as it should be. How proud we were of our brave girl.
I didn't cry until we drove past the Salvation Army hall, when memories of newborn baby massage classes flooded back to me. Someone very wise once told me that the days can drag but the years fly by. The pre-school years are gone. In a heartbeat.
Good luck my beautiful, funny, sweet, kind, clever girl. We couldn't be more proud of you.