Little boy, big school

The day has finally dawned.
In just over two hours I'll be taking my little man by the hand and walking him in the gates of his nursery school towards the exciting yet scary world of education.
So far, when I've been working, Joseph has been minded by my auntie Stella who has looked after him for just over three years.
She has given him bucketloads of one on one attention, brought him on in leaps and bounds and I couldn't ask for better.
But now, well it's time for her to share that care with the lovely people of his nursery school.
I'm excited because I know his school has a great reputation and the teaching staff seem wonderful. Their pastoral care so far has been wonderful (two induction sessions, a home visit and special storybook for him to read all about the school), but still a selfish part of me is overwhelmed with emotion.
So far I've been largely able to control who cares for him and what influences him. Now, it's over to someone else. And I can't make sure anymore that no one is mean to him or won't share their toys with him. (Even though it is likely he will be the one not wanting to share the toys.)
I'm also reminded of the anecdote in which a mother said her heart broke a little when she bought her child's first pair of shoes. She was proud, but sad because that was the start of her child walking away from her.
So as Joseph waves me off and lets me get on with my life, I know that mummy will have become just a little bit less important to him.