Just put one foot in front of the other

What I wrote back in 2011, when I was a young mom sending her son to the first day of school.

It’s a momentous season in my world.

My firstborn is graduating from high school tomorrow.

It’s been a long journey that he’s been on since August of 2011, when he attended his first day of pre-kindergarten at his small elementary school in South Austin.

Back then, I had what was called a “mom blog” called La Vie Dansante, the dancing life. I named it after a Jimmy Buffett song that spoke to my seeker’s heart. I’d graduated from college just a handful of years earlier, but instead of carrying on with my world-trotting ambitions, I was exploring the domestic adventure of raising young children as a twentysomething food writer with a divorce lingering on the horizon.

Julian and I were growing up together, and we’re still at it, all these years later.

But, of course, he’s on his own path now.

And just like when he was learning how to walk, I had to eventually let go of his hand while he found his footing.

I’m incredibly proud of the work he’s put into finishing his high school studies, and I’m so glad I found this post from when it all started.

Because it reminds me of what happens when we put on our brave face and take one step at a time in the direction we want to be going.

It might not be a linear path, but it’s a path we call our own.

And this kid forever changed mine.

I hope you enjoy this little blast from the past. Maybe it will stir up some of your memories of going to school for the first time or sending your loved ones off on a new adventure that both of you aren’t sure you’re ready for.

Because we never stop taking things one step at a time.

And some of those steps feel bigger than others.

Originally posted on August 22, 2011

Tomorrow is Julian's big day.

After three years at Lala's, he's ready for a change. The kid says "prefer" and "deceive" and "articulation" and knows the difference between being frustrated and being annoyed. He's 4 and a half going on 8, it seems some days, but on others, he acts like he's closer to Avery's age. (The fake crying has been particularly annoying lately.)

It's been a long, hot, dry summer, and we're ready for something, anything to change. The days are still long, and the 105-degree temperatures never seem to end. (We're about to break the record for the most 100-degree days this week.)

Avery is in the home stretch of babydom. He is walking now, but I haven't had a chance to catch him in action on the camera yet. As you can tell, he's into everything, including the trash. His top two teeth are finally dropping, which we've been waiting on for months.

In the kitchen scenes here, Julian is helping me make friendship bread cupcakes from a starter our neighbor gave us.

Jules is excited about tomorrow, but he's told me he's nervous, too. I tell him we all are nervous, but we have to put on our brave faces and be willing to try something new.

A 7:45 a.m. start time will be as hard on us as it is him.

But it's time. They can't be — and we wouldn't want them to be — young forever. It's such a zen-like thing to watch and experience something so constantly full of change as raising children.

There are milestones every month, it seems, and you feel them as much as your kids do. When it's just you, the milestones are harder to gauge.

So here we are, the night before Julian goes to his first day of pre-kindergarten. We have to pay for it, but it's about the same cost as Lala's with infinite benefits. He'll go a half day on Tuesday and Thursday, and then a whole day on Friday with the whole class. We met the teachers, and they are lovely young women who in any other situation I'd be geeking out about food blogging or hanging out with over a beer.

In that way, Lala has spoiled us. I can't tell you how many meals, slices of cake, beers, and even a few shots of tequila I've shared with her. She's our abuelita in almost every sense of the word, and I'm glad she'll be part of our lives. Avery will still be going there, but later this fall, we're cutting him down to two days a week. Ian is good at many things, and one of those things is parenting. Julian gets out of school every day at 2 p.m., and I have no idea how that is all going to work out.

All I know is that tomorrow, we'll all be getting up an hour before we normally do (and that's on a good day), eating breakfast, and loading up the car to drop one off at Lala's and then take the other across the street to the elementary school.

Butterflies as we reach the school's front door.

Just put one foot in front of the other, I'll tell him.