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Today was his first day in middle school. I stood at the door and watched him walk by himself (or rather with our neighbor who is in the 8th grade) and I tried not to cry. He said "bye mom!" and they marched down the sidewalk, past the hedge, out of sight and I nearly collapsed. I wanted so bad to run out to make sure he crossed the street carefully.

All day long I thought about him at his big new school and I worried. What if he gets lost? What if a big kid picks on him? What if the teachers are mean to him? What if I can't protect him from whatever is out there??

A year ago I was taking him to carpool, reminding him to zip his coat and eat his lunch. Three years ago he still held my hand crossing the street and hugged me at the bus stop. Six years ago he was a tiny little peanut climbing on the bus with a giant backpack and a pearly baby-tooth grin... too little to be out of my womb much less going to school!

Now I'm starting to feel dispensable. Oh, I know he still needs me. But it seems like I'm being humored or tolerated more often than not. I pack lunch. I nag about homework. I sign forms and write checks.

I'm not Mommy anymore... just Mom. I'm not the best peanut butter sandwich maker (Dad is). I'm not a great protector. I ask annoying questions. I embarrass him in front of his friends. But when he's hurt, I hurt even more. When he cries, I cry harder. When he's unloveable, I love him even more. I've known for 11 years that being a mom is the hardest job in the world. No one told me that now it gets even harder.

I know he loves me and I have a few more years before he flies away. Even though he got lost a few times, he had a good first day. And with a sigh a relief I can finally let the tears loose. But I'm still not sure if they are for him or for me.