ELLENVILLE – I didn't anticipate being a stay at home mom and certainly not for four plus years. But life, I've learned, takes unexpected turns.

We found out we were expecting our first child soon after my dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer. I had assumed, since I had just graduated with a master's in elementary education, that despite becoming pregnant, I would continue into the field of education and simply place the baby in daycare; I knew many who had done just that.

To make a long, dreadful story short... my dad passed away when I was five months pregnant, and just weeks before my wedding. As many could assume, it was an experience that would inevitably change the course of my life.

Like most new moms, the moment I held Shelby I knew I couldn't leave her side — but, the feeling was compounded by the loss of my dad... and knowing how little, precious time we have with our loved ones. I couldn't drop her in daycare and go about my career. Although there are many fantastic programs out there, I knew that no one would be as attentive, caring or loyal to my girl as I would.

It was a decision that didn't come easily. Along the way, there were financial difficulties — my husband supported us, as I stayed home. There were moments during that first year that I was lonely, sad, questioning if I had made the right choice; but for every moment I felt that way, there were a thousand others that proved we had made the right choice. Every time Shelby turned over, spoke a new word or discovered something intriguing, I bore witness.

It got easier over the following year, and we soon welcomed little sister Sammie. And boy, life got busy. But, I still couldn't go back to work. Not only would the cost of sending two to daycare exceed my earnings, I couldn't imagine not watching their new relationship unfold.

We moved to Ellenville when Shelby was two and Sammie, six months. During the chaos of setting up home, I had fleeting ideas of working... being able to leave the house, wear something not smeared with baby food, converse with other adults. I started wishing away my time, something my mom said I would regret.

Last week, we bought Shelby's first book bag. She proudly marched around the store, book bag in place, telling everyone she encountered that she'd be going to school in September. I apologized for my daughter's candor, explained she was only going to pre-K, and ushered her away from the perplexed shoppers.

But inside, I was sad... I'll admit it.

My beautiful, smart baby girl wasn't a baby anymore. And although Ellenville Central School District pre-K is only a half day program, it felt like she was going to be gone forever. For every time she excitedly asked about her school bus, her teacher or her classroom — I wanted to cry.

But instead, I smiled. Because that is what moms do.

She's going to have tons of fun in school, learning all sorts of new things. She'll make lots of new friends and she will love her teacher, I tell her.

I think I'm reassuring myself more than her; she clearly didn't have any problems with the idea of being away from home, her sister or me.

It's she who's asked if we could go school shopping, if she could get her hair cut, and what time her bus will be there to pick her up. She's undoubtfully excited; but her little sister and I... not so much.

What if she gets scared on the bus the first day? She's never ridden a bus before. What if she sucks her thumb and other kids make fun of her? What if she's scared and lonely and I'm not there to protect her...

I always understood my children would go to school. As educators, my husband and I both have high expectations for our children's schooling. But with all that is going on in the educational world, like Common Core, we're worried. I'm afraid I'm sending my brilliant, sweet daughter into the system... and she will be changed. There are problems with the system, with the world, that she cannot understand yet — that we barely understand ourselves but need to protect her, and Sammie, from.

Despite that, I will not deny my daughter the experience of excitement for school... And I wish she will be as excited every year as she is now.

In less than two weeks Shelby will have her book bag slung over her back, her hair a few inches shorter, and a brand new outfit on. Sammie and I will wave to her as she peers from the window. I will smile and hold back tears until the bus turns the corner and will desperately hold back from jumping in the car and following.

Starting school is a monumental milestone for a child but, I'm suspecting, it's also one for the parent. I hope she has a wonderful first day... I will have to believe so because there is nothing else that is going to get me through it.