fighting back tears

She's my baby.
The master of Jedi mind tricks and I'll admit that she has me so tightly wound around her little finger that I go merrily skipping along behind her most of the time. I do too much for her. Things she is capable of. I am getting better.
*BUT IT'S HARD* (said in my whiny voice)
This morning after her shower I asked her to brush out her hair while I went to get her clothes out of the dryer (where I put them every school day morning just before she gets dressed so that they are nice and warm...).
I KNOW. Really I do.
So anyway I toss her the hair brush and told her to brush her hair and she asks incredulously "by myself?". She is almost six. See what I've done?
So imagine what it took for me to drop her off at school this morning. For the first time. Ever. Two years of pre-school and almost 6 months of Kindergarten and each and every time she has been walked in by me or Derek or one of her big sisters.
But she said she was ready.
She was even excited about it. Derek took her last week and hung back and watched her get herself ready. Out of her snow boots and into her low-tops. Lunch put away. Jacket hung up. Locker closed with all of her belongings tucked safely inside. Things that I have been doing for her or helping her with since November when we decided to put her in public school. But today I pulled up in front of the school between Lori Reader's car and the school bus. She leaned in from the back seat for a quick kiss and then she hopped out. And didn't even look back. She joined the throng of kids emptying out of the bus and was up the steps, through the doors and out of sight before I was ready.
I sat there for a moment and drove away with an actual lump in my throat.