I enrolled Colt at Holy Cross Preschool in August 2010, when he was 15 months old. I was pregnant with Sam at the time and this little, precious child was quite the handful. Somehow in what feels like the blink of an eye, I find myself writing his Kinder-prep graduation date on my calendar.
"It goes too fast, cherish every moment." That is probably the single most overused phrase heard by any mother with small children and there was no way that I could have ever been prepared for what it meant. I got an email from Old Navy the other day advertising that their uniforms were on sale, so I logged on to the website and filled my virtual basket with all the uniform shirts and coordinating bottoms. I spent about an hour looking at all the different items and predicting the different sizes that Colt would be 8 months from now. I clicked the button to check out and I broke down sobbing. It wasn't a polite, teary-eyed cry, it was an all out hysterical, heaving, sobbing session. I closed the computer and went in the other room. I came to the conclusion that I wasn't ready to order uniforms and I certainly wasn't ready for my little son to start elementary school. I even contemplated reasons that he shouldn't advance to kindergarten...anything to get me one more toddler year.
I might be able to make up reasons to justify it in my head that Colt isn't ready to start school, but in reality, I can't slow down the aging process and like it or not, at the ripe old age of five, he will be a considered a "little boy." Not a baby, not a toddler, a boy - I mean, I know he's a boy, but you get the point. So, all of my craziness got me thinking about his last five years. I can't think about this, type it or talk about it without breaking down, so please tolerate me if I don't make sense.
I remember finding out that I was pregnant and experiencing that life inside me for the first time. I remember those big, bright eyes that stayed open right after he was born. This child was such a miracle to me! The joy of that day! I will never forget. I can honestly say that I remember in vivid detail his little baby feet, his first smile. His little life, his beautiful, perfect life gave my life meaning. I even remember the first time he had a cold and a swollen gland. I called his pediatrician at 10pm in hysterics, saying that he needed to be tested for cancer immediately! :)
Colt is strong-willed (by this, I mean hard-headed, hmmm wonder where he gets that from...) and such a perfectionist. We definitely butt heads, so don't think that it's all sunshine and roses...this isn't facebook. ha. But when he reads this one day a long time from now, there are things I want him to know.
I want him to know that he has always brought joy to other adults and elderly people with his friendly and genuinely loving spirit.
I want him to know that it means so much that he is helpful to his brother. He looks out for little Sammy all the time and won't go to his class until he's hugged and kissed him two times.
I want him to know that I was worried that he would never play with kids his age - I even talked to the doctor about it. When I brought up my concern with his teacher, she laughed and said, "What are you talking about? He's the comic ring-leader for this whole class. The other kids adore him!"
I want him to know that he has a wild and amazing imagination. He's always making up games to play and pulling things out of thin air (literally) to play with. I love to watch him play and put on little shows by himself.
I want him to know that I love to see his papers when I pick him up from school, so I can see his progress and all that he's learned.
I want him to know that I could get up in the mornings and start my day before him, but I wait in bed for him to crawl under the covers with his little blanky so we can snug (Sam made this word up a few weeks ago and it stuck, ha, I think it's a cross between an snuggle and a hug) for just a few minutes.
I want him to know, most importantly, that he is my heart. It is an honor and privilege to be his mother and not a day goes by that I don't thank God for this most precious gift!
This concludes my sob story for the moment. I'm sure I'll write more about my sadness as summer comes to a close, but if you are thinking about me in August, please send a little prayer my way because I'm sure going to need it! I saw a sign once in front of an elementary school for all the parents of kindergartners to go to a "BooHoo" breakfast after they drop their kids off for the first day. I guess I'll be first in line for that!
