And did I cry,

driving away from dropping the former Working Baby off at her first day of preschool?

Well, duh: of course I did.

And then I drove to work, parked, got out, walked down the street, stood in line at the coffee place, walked further down the street, climbed the stairs to the office ... all without stopping to look at dogs, walk on walls, use my knees to corral a squirming toddler against the milk/sugar station at the coffee shop while adding copious amounts of both to my coffee, check out the toy amusement parks in the window of the card shop, wait at the bottom of the stairs for while the Babe climbed "by! my! self!," looking back after each step to make sure I wasn't in violation of her "you stay at the bottom, mummy" edict.

Boring, yes. But I could get used to boring, I think.