Boo's first day of school

This morning, I woke my middle child, dressed him and got him ready for his first day of school.
While I plastered a smile on my face and chattered happily about how much fun he was going to have, I felt a lump in my stomach and tears in my eyes.
My beautiful blue eyed baby is taking his first step away from me today.
I will hold his hand until they pry my fingers loose.
I will hold back tears until I kiss him goodbye.
And I will look at him and see my chubby, newborn baby. The child who clung to me with fierce determination. I see the child with my grandpa's smile grinning up at me as he cries,"School, Mommy. School!"
I will peer through doors and windows until The Man pulls me away. Or vice versus, depending on which of us takes it harder.
Then I will worry all day until I see him again.
I will worry if he's safe.
If he's eating.
If he's having fun.
If he misses me.
If he knows I'll be back.
If he's making friends.
If he's happy.
If he's afraid.
If he knows I'm thinking of him.
If he knows I love him.
And, despite my ulcers and my breaking heart, I'll plaster on that damn smile on my face and greet him enthusiastically.