kindergarten

Your momma may have been a basket case these past 24 hours.

You see, it feels as though kindergarten is the final “little kid” grade.  I was under no illusion we were still Scottie Dogs in Pre-K3 with you in your tiny little uniforms running around performing Little Miss Muffet on the carpet squares of Mrs. Richardson’s classroom.

And Lord knows, I was pretty much a mess taking you TO kindergarten this year.

That transition to elementary school is hard on your parents.  But it was hard on you too.  And yet, with a new school and new friends and new demands on your curious brains, you did beautifully.  Each one of you did.  You did it differently.  You learned at different paces and different styles, but you did it with humor and persistence.

Little bit with your angles and hopscotch of the mind when you learned numbers.  The baby with your racing through the books and reading 48 pages all on your own.  And the eldest, you stepped into such leadership this year and grew to be a performer and your own man.

As I laid in bed crying into daddy’s chest last night, I said I wasn’t ready.  That it wasn’t fair we had to watch you all grow up at the exact same time.  That we didn’t have it staggered like most families where you could ease out of this stage or that one.  No, we’re pulled into the next stage kicking and screaming because we just want a little more time in this moment.

I want to do it differently.  I want to be more patient, and cuddle at bedtime longer, and never ever refuse to tuck you in for the third time in a night since I don’t know how much longer you’ll ask me to do it.

I watched you all play so confidently in your own skin today, and I was so grateful for this year and the place we landed and all it taught you about yourself and others.

We celebrated tonight.  Mexican food at a NEW restaurant because the eldest, you who used to follow everything your brother and sister did, demanded we go to a new restaurant you’d never tried before.  You are going to be such the adventurer.  And we handed each one of you diplomas and listed your individual accomplishments this year and gave you a $10 bill to spend on whatever you choose because it was your reward for a job well done and a year well finished.

I hope you remember what your wonderful teacher told you as we left school today.  She bent over, looked each of you in the eyes, and held your faces, and said, remember what you’ve learned here, remember that you are smart and you are kind and you are…

I have to say, I can’t finish what she said because I had to step away so you wouldn’t see the tears running down my face.  Oh, your momma and daddy are so very proud of each one of you.  You are bravely stepping into yet another new school next year and even though there will be some bumps, because life always has them, I know you will handle it with the strength and smarts that you tackled this big year of kindergarten.

I know this will be hard to hear, because it was hard for me to hear as a child, but please don’t grow up too fast.  You’re going to have plenty of time to deal with the adult pressures and responsibilities and demands.  Let me have you in this place a wee bit longer.  I’ll carry you to the breakfast table as long as my back holds out.  You are always welcome in my lap.  I really want to hear all your stories.  I know you have to wait a little longer in our family since everyone wants to tell their stories at once, but there will always be time left to hear yours.

I am your biggest fan.

I love you so much.

Let’s have a great summer.

My dear ones,

I’ve known this day was coming for three months.

Well, I suppose I’ve always known it would come.

And yet, blink, in quickest flash of a moment it is here.

I am so proud of you on this special day.  I had no idea, staring at each of your little faces in the NICU almost six years ago, who you would become and how immeasurably I would come to love you.

I want so much for you.  Today and in the days to come.  I want all the basics, of course.  For you to read this year as you each so love books.  It will be a passion we share together as we grow.  For you to add and subtract as you begin to compute facts and figures in your head.  For you to begin comprehending the fascinating mysteries of science as you experiment and sense new ways for things to come together.  For you to learn about different countries and peoples and languages and cultures as you imagine the vast world you have yet to travel.

Oh, but I long for you to learn so many things beyond the basics.

I want you to begin to read other people.  To understand their emotions and reactions so you can empathize and understand how to form deep and fulfilling relationships with peers and with elders.

I want you to start understanding how to add in the things which are important and add value and improve your character and subtract out the things which don’t really matter and belittle others and attack your self-esteem.

I want you to passionately seek to find glimpses of the fascinating mysteries of Christ and His sacrifice and His grace and His unfathomable, unfailing, unflinching love for you.

I want you to thoroughly enjoy meeting all peoples of all backgrounds and cultures and incomes and families and respect the diversity they bring to your learning and know that God formed each one of them uniquely with special talents and life purposes.

I know it sounds like such a tall order, but your momma is an optimist.  I believe in the best in you and believe you will grow from a funny, high-spirited child into a purposeful and passionate young adult.

I want to do all I can do to help, but I also want to take one step back this year (just one step at a time, my love).  You see, you’re growing up and you’re not my little one who needs help getting dressed or who holds my hand on every sidewalk.  If I’m being honest with you, I’m crying just typing that up.

See I lose all three of you to a new stage at the same time.  I don’t get to hold one baby back while I release the next one.  No, no, I have the best and the worst job.  I get to send you off to spread your wings all at the same time.  While that brings me tremendous joy, it also makes me sad that you’re growing up so fast.  You are so much of my heart, a bigger heart than I even knew possible, and it breaks just a bit when you’re able to step further away on your own.

But I would never stop this.  Because I believe this is all a working out of His big plan.  I’m so honored to just play a role.  I am confident of this, He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it.  (Phil 1:6)

I know God is working your life verses into the fabric of what you learn and understand, and I know this kindergarten year will stitch even more of it into the fabric of your lives.  My loving, diligent eldest, you will win favor when you trust God with all your heart.  My passionate, artistic only girl, as you know His love more, He will do beyond what you could ever fathom in your life.  My smart and emotional youngest, you will live a life worthy of Him as you grow in understanding and wisdom.

Have a great day my big boys and girl.  Have a great year.  You will have both successes and failures and each experience will form you into a stronger, more capable human.  No matter whether your days or good or bad, I am always here.  I love you.  I will always love you.  Thank you for making me a mommy.

All my love, to the moon and back,

Mom