Cry.

Last week my 6-year-old daughter went back to school. First grade. She loves her school as much as any little girl ever could love a school. But she cries every day at school – even if just for a minute – because she misses us. I appreciate being missed, but it breaks my heart knowing she cries   e v e r y  d a y   at school. She is my tender little soul.

Yesterday, however, was was a new day. She came home from school and the first thing she said to me when she hopped in the door was, “Mommy, I didn’t cry today! I had such a super good day that I didn’t cry!”

"I am so happy you had such a super good day. And I’m so happy you’re home now so we can snuggle."

But then there’s more to the story, sort of.

On Saturday my best friend/honorary little sister moved to France (for the time being). Today I walked into the coffee shop where she worked all summer for the first time since she’s been gone. And I cried. Just for a minute.

I miss her.

I guess some things stay the same, whether you’re 6 or 31.