Today was LMD's second to last day of school. This is a bittersweet time of year for me. It's exciting watching her grow up, yet it tugs at my heart just a bit to get a confirmation that she's growing up. I walked her into class today with that sense of sadness.

We walked into the room and her teacher, Mrs. S greeted us with a bigger than usual smile and said, "Thanks for all the help you were in class this year!" She handed me a potted fuschia.

Let's be clear. Yeah, I "helped". I went on field trips so I could participate in my kid's joy. I brought snacks on several occasions, again, for the kid's benefit and joy. I even *gasp* gave funds to the school for special goodies and activities. I was just being a mom who loves a kid. Honest.

I was so touched by that gesture, though. It was absolutely, completely unnecessary, yet it spoke volumes. Those tiny flowers indicated how much this woman cared for my child those few hours every day. Suddenly, the pot in my hand was a symbol of the connection she had forged with my daughter this year.

I hope I don't kill them.