"The baby years are short, kind of like five minutes... underwater. It doesn't seem like it, but they will go on to kindergarten then read the Harry Potter series then join the "Ninja Club" in middle school then play high school soccer and rent his first tux for prom and run over a fence in his truck, and near the end, you will hit your knees and thank God that you got to parent this kid, that he was yours, that he walked into your arms at one and will walk out of them at eighteen. I wouldn't trade one day of Big Feelings, because the good ones far outweigh the hard ones, and the one that endures above all else is Big, Big, Big love." - Jen Hatmaker
Today you attend your very last day of preschool. I can remember that first day almost two years ago. The day I dropped you off and you fell to your knees in the hallway when I attempted to walk away from you. You had been so very excited to be a preschooler until the big moment arrived, and it was all just too overwhelming for you to take in. You wanted your mommy badly, and I had to walk out the door as quickly as possible while the teachers wrangled you in their arms and attempted to carry your kicking self back to the classroom.
And now here we are two years later, and you rocked it. Your first day was your only bad day, as you quickly came to truly love these days - always waking up a little bit happier when you knew you'd have a chance to learn and explore in the preschool classroom that afternoon.
You've grown so much in these two years, and we think you are just the bee's knees. You don't ever realize or recognize this, but I often catch your daddy just staring at you. We're pretty proud of you and so in awe of the unique individual that you are. You're a special one with your own passions and your own dreams - such big dreams for such a little person. I love that you want to be a daddy more than anything. I love that you are sensitive to other's feelings, that you can notice quickly when your mommy is in need of a hug, that you shoot hoops with Jaden in the driveway just because you know it makes him happy and that you are your most gentle self with small helpless animals. If the world could see the way you talk to and care for the newborn kittens at Daddy's shop, I believe it would be a happier place.
You love to learn and explore and create, and you are so good at all of it. And no, you are not perfect. You are fiercely stubborn and opinionated, can be an awful handful at supper time and have literally zero patience when you've set your mind to wanting something. And I couldn't love you more.
You love to spend your days pretending to be a super hero, not even knowing that you and your brother are indeed my little heroes. When the weight of adult life and adult decisions and adult uncertainty threatens to overtake us, you are always there to remind us that we are more than okay.
Last week I was heading to HyVee over the noon hour when I was reminded out of the blue that you only had one week of preschool left. And in between walking from my car through the parking lot to the store, the tears came. I had to grocery shop with sunglasses on.
And then there was this week. I had an absolutely chaotic Monday morning and was already exhausted by the afternoon when I met up with your class at your park field trip. You saw me pull into the parking lot and came running at me so fast, I swear you could have lifted up off the ground to take flight, followed by one of your famous "bear hugs" that we all know and love so well. And everything from that morning, and all the weight I'd carried with me to the park, disappeared. You have a way, little one.
I'm so thankful to be yours... thankful you are mine. And I can't wait to see what's ahead for you. Just know I will always think back on these years and remember fondly - my little boy with his fluffy hair, bruised up knees, baby-cheeked smile... and super hero cape.
Love you much...