Seven Days

It was a cold, grey morning in mid-December.  I was spending my first day home alone with my 8 day old son after Frank had gone back to work. I remember Frank calling mid-morning to ask how it was going.

"I don't know,"  I replied. "I just kind of want to go back to work...How long until kindergarten?"

Fast forward five and a half years- through a horrible babysitter experience, my job change from full-time to work-at-home, a year of breastfeeding, a new brother, potty-training, preschool, and a plethora of Matchbox cars and pretend phones- and the answer to that question is seven days.

Seven days until kindergarten. Such a cliche, but it does go so fast.

That little baby would learn to walk less than ten short months from that cold morning and would simultaneously scare and amaze us with his coordination.  He would start talking late, at exactly age 2, and chatter non-stop first about cars and fans, and later about electronics such as phones, and iPads.  Everyone was right when they said to enjoy the quiet because he once he started talking, he would never stop!

At five years old, his favorite things are riding his bike, going to the park, and playing with his grandparents. This summer, he's enjoyed being on a t-ball team and has surprised me with his progress in swimming lessons.  He loves anything remotely fast and scary: carnival rides, waterslides, and the neighbor's motorized scooter!

His memory and deductive reasoning are well-beyond his years; it's impossible to pull anything over on him.  And oh, the vocabulary!  Just this morning, he correctly used the words, "circulate," and "sarcastic."  In a group, I have seen him as reserved but kind.  We've always referred to him as the third adult in the house

The thing I really like about Jacob, though, is his sense of adventure.  (I think he comes by this naturally, since Frank is much the same way.)  He likes new places, new ideas, new people.  There isn't much that he will shy away from or say no to.  More than anything, I think this trait will serve him well in kindergarten.

In seven days, I'll put send him to school, and for the first time, I won't be the one to control what his day looks like.  In the short-term, I won't be able to protect him from being hungry or tired, just as I won't be able to save him down the road from mean kids or tests he didn't study for.  As a mom, there is a part of me that wants to hide him under his bed and let that bus roll by!

He has no idea the journey on which he's about to embark, one I hope that is the beginning of a long (long) academic career.  Last year, my mom told me, (I'm paraphrasing), "You don't have kids for you.  You have kids so they can go out into the world and become Christian adults who make a difference; to go out and do things you would have never done or would have never dreamed of.  They're on loan.  Use your time wisely"

Too deep on a Wednesday?  Probably.  But it does remind me that he can't change the world if I hide him under his bed.

I think he's ready.

I think I'm ready.

Bring it on, kindergarten.