completely against his wishes, roman began school last wednesday.

for the past few weeks, i've been talking enthusiastically about laurel hill, reminding him of the children he knew there and how cool the bike deck is and the outdoor train and the playhouse and his teacher tim in blue room.

it didn't fly.

"hey nino, do you want to go to laurel hill? you can bring snacks and drive little cars and climb the dome!!!"

"no."

"but you like it there, you had so much fun when we picked up parker!!"

after a while i began to feel cheap. like a used car salesman.

"i want to say wit you, mama."

as it is a co-op, he started on my first work day. he played and seemed to have a good time but he kept me in his periphery at all times. when i had to work in the kitchen, a no kids' zone, he totally lost it and i had to trade duties with somebody.

i picked up a shift for another mom and worked the next day also, to help ease the transition. this time he was on me like velcro.

then came the day of reckoning.

on friday, he was to be picked up by my friend catherine with son francis in tow, (who was adapting marvelously to preschool, i might add), to work her co-op shift that morning. a former school teacher, she came prepared. at 8:25 she arrived armed with chocolate milk and a little black harley-davidson motorcyle. roman is a total freak for motorcyles and can readily spot a harley down the block from his carseat. (and, yes, that does freak me out a little.)

in the morning he expressed his reluctance.

"one more kissy, mama," he pleaded as eased him out the door, my heart dissolving. "mama, one more kissy. one more kissy, mama," he said over and over in his deep, throaty voice that was cracking like my heart.

if i didn't have my cleaning lady arriving at 8:30, there is no question that i would have kept him home, perhaps forever. but i had to let magdelena in and walk the girls to kindergarten around the corner.

cramming him into the carseat i felt like meryl making sophie's choice. i shoved, cajoled and ultimately strapped him in, red-faced, arch-backed and  bucking.

but just as i pulled away and closed the door, he realized what he had. chocolate milk and a harley. sweet! he pulled it together.

three hours and two reassuring text messages later, catherine's black volvo wagon pulled into our driveway. i was sitting on the stoop.

i walked around to open his door. his face was beaming.

"mama, i had a good time at school. cath-in gayme a holley!"