Yesterday we had our last day at the water park.
I will say that those passes from my parents made the best gift.
We used them plenty, and were very appreciative.
But the end of summer means that fall is just around the corner-- moving us from my second favorite time of the year into my most favorite.
Which is always exciting--
but also denote change.
As you know, we have decided that Maddox will not start kindergarten this fall.
We didn't decide this within in the last month or anything-- more like when he was a few months old.
I do find myself worrying if I am holding back this tiny soul who is so ready to fly, that his wings are wore out from trying.
I also worry about this extra year at home, and if I can challenge him enough to keep him stimulated.
If I am disciplined enough to stay on a curriculum of sorts and improve his handwriting and press him to read better...
or if that's even necessary as he will spend the next 13+ years learning, and this is his last year to focus solely on play.
I worry that I can keep enough snacks in this house,
and keep him from feeling bored.
We have chosen not to start him back in the same Mother's Day Out that he was in last year as he would be repeating the same curriculum-- and let's face it.
We know our letters.
This boy makes me proud.
He is kind and tender and thoughtful and polite.
He tells me thank you for the smallest things that I do for him and bathes me with love and affection all day.
He is bright. He is quirky. His vocabulary is incredible.
He is helpful, and coachable, and knows right from wrong.
He is forgiving and honest and rambunctious and exhausting.
He is hilarious and wise beyond his age...
He is a thinker.
He is busy.
He is hopeful and faithful.
He is so very sweet.
He is the best big brother to Beckham.
And the best big boy to me.
He is mine.
The piece that changed us people to parents.
He has allowed us to learn how to raise him while making daily mistakes, and yet he rolls off the bumps with a smile on his face and a hug.
Sometimes I see a teenager, all legs and blonde hair.
Other times he is just a baby, tiny as the day we brought him home.
He makes me emotional, and feel so undeserving.
I know he is not perfect, but he is perfect to me.
I have been told that the school years will be the best years of my life...
Full of friends and sports and the best adventures.
But opening the door to an elementary school closes the door to the part his life that we are in now.
And that's overwhelming to me.
I only have one year left.
...To cherish every piece of him and the way he makes me feel.
To soak in his quirks and tattoo them into my memory.
To spend the entire day being his best friend.
To still let him believe he is actually the fastest kid on the planet.
To be the only girl he loves.
I am ready for fall; the season.
but I am so anxious over change.
And this year feels like 12 months of limbo.
Here's to savoring Maddox.
Ornate and special.
A year to build him up,
Before the world tells him he's regular.