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I can feel my teardrops plopping onto the car seat on the silent drive home. There's no "Mommy, Mommy" calling to me from the backseat. No "Little Einsteins" theme music dancing through the car. No one is kicking my seat or drawing suns on the window. I wipe the drippy mascara from my cheeks and realize it's time to start untying the apron strings I so tightly fastened three years ago.

Yes, he's only 3, and I'm blubbering as if he's all grown up and leaving home. But today is his first day at school, and while I know it's "just preschool," it feels like the beginning of the end. Each day that follows will bring him a little more independence as he inches his way to manhood.

"I don't know what your problem is," I admonish myself. "It's not like he's never been away from you."

"I know," I whine back since there's no one else around to whine at me. "But it's not just that."

There's so much more to my tears than just my little boy being away from me 20 hours each week. I'm weeping the whole way home because it's the first of many changes awaiting me as a mom. Sure, today it's the first day of preschool, but soon it will be summer camp and the prom followed by college and then marriage. Before I can even say "mother of a preschooler," my firstborn will be a man!

One day he won't need me the way he needs me now. There won't be grimy hands to wipe or macaroni necklaces to make. I'll drop him off at a friend's house and not stay for coffee. What if he makes the wrong friends? What if he gets cut from the football team? Did I teach him to stop before turning right on a red light? And will he know what to do when his college roommate offers him drugs? Will he remember to hold the door for his date? Why won't his boss give him a raise? Uh-oh, I'm losing it. The weeping has given way to wailing and out-and-out hysteria—all because Adam went to preschool.

"Breathe," I screech through my tears. "Just breathe." And then I'm laughing, because whenever Adam has a meltdown, I hold him and say, "Breathe, Adam. Just breathe."

But before I condemn myself to empty-nest syndrome 15 years too soon, I realize this is part of motherhood. It's not an event but a series of milestones. You know what I mean: first smile, first word, first day of preschool, first girlfriend, and so on. It's a slow process that goes so fast.

So today begins the transition from being on the field to standing on the sidelines cheering. It hurts a little bit. OK, it hurts a lot. And my high-school cheerleading uniform doesn't even fit my left thigh these days. Again I start the breathing and pretty soon I'm fanning my face, too. Why do women do that? Like fanning our faces will somehow wave the tears goodbye.

"That's what being a mom is about," I tell myself in between breaths. "You're going to change roles a few times over his life, but you'll always be his mom." I sound so smart when I talk to myself.

One phase of life gives way to another. And just when we're comfortable with where we are, it's time to move on. Transitions don't happen all at once; we don't put a preschooler to bed and wake up to an adult.

"If you keep your head and untie those strings one knot at a time, you'll be fine and so will he." Man, this talking-to-yourself thing is really helpful.

Kristy Rose moved to Bismarck, North Dakota, with her husband and preschooler two years ago and discovered MOPS. With many years' experience writing technical documents and marketing material, she found her voice while attending MOPS and now serves as Publicity Team Leader and Co-Coordinator for a new MOPS ministry in Bismarck.

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