Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Turning Point

Nolan five years ago.




Nolan now.  


When I look at those baby pictures I really start missing the baby days.  I just want to bury my face in the blankets wrapped around him, and inhale the baby smells.  I want to kiss those fat, little cheeks over and over because baby's will let you do that.  Five-year-olds will not.   I want to play with his itty, bitty toes and blow big, loud raspberries on his belly.

Yet, as good as the good parts of the baby days were, I now have this amazing  spaceship-bulding, monster-creating, mac-n-cheese hating (really, you don't know how much he hates it - if I'm making it for Abby, because of course, it's her favorite, he holds his nose in silent protest) little boy that is just so. much. fun.

Today is the last day of summer (forget September 23 - everyone knows that summer ends when school begins).  Today is the last day of sleeping past seven, staying in pajamas until we feel like getting dressed, and playing with his sister from eyes-open to eyes-close.

This morning we attended kindergarten orientation.  He met his teacher, saw his classroom, and hung out with some of the other new kids at the school.  It all went well.  I like the school.  He seems to like it too.

I'm looking forward to this new chapter that we're stepping into tomorrow morning.  I anxiously await the life-lessons, accomplishments, and memories that are a part of the school-years package.  I even look forward to the hard parts - the hurt feelings, the hurt pride, the foreboding walls that he will sometimes have to tackle by himself.  Sometimes we'll climb those walls with him, and I look forward to that too.  I know that in the end we will all look back on the hard parts and know that the good parts would not have been as good without them.

Whether he is starting kindergarten or the twelfth-grade, he will always be my baby.   I reserve the right to blow raspberries on his belly whenever I want and kiss his face all over when the moment feels right.  Okay, okay. . . he probably won't allow me to do that by like, the tenth grade, and I know there will come a time when he will be stronger than me and able to physically stop me from showing my love in such goofy ways.  I'll find other ways.  He will always know that I have never loved him less than the day before, only more.

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