Yesterday was my kids’ first day of school, and it was the first time I dropped them off and left with no one in tow. My baby, Jonah, finally went off to Kindergarten.

For nearly six years, it’s been just Jonah and me while the other kids were in school day in and day out. He attended preschool but that time was minimal compared to the time we spent together — running errands, taking special trips to the mall or zoo, hanging out with friends or just spending time at home — him playing and me working.

We were both ready for kindergarten. He couldn’t wait for the big day to come and had trouble getting to sleep the night before. He read the postcard that arrived in the mail from his teacher over and over again. I couldn’t wait to have only one drop off every morning and freedom from little demands for six and a half hours a day. But when I woke him up yesterday morning and helped him put on his crisp clean uniform, I got a little choked up. My little guy looked so grown up.

That, however, was nothing compared to watching my oldest put on her middle school uniform for the first time, fix her hair just right and then run off to gossip with her friends when we arrived at school.

In the school parking lot I wound up talking to a friend whose baby is going into eighth grade and who just sent her oldest off to college. She said no one prepared her for just how hard that was. And in a blink, that will be me.