Mack & Mary.

Dear Mack, 

You are 5.  You could have started kindergarten this fall, but your dad and I just didn't think you were ready.  You're still 'little' in our world, even though your personality really is quite 'huge.'  You still hold tightly to your blanket, rubbing the satin across your lips when you're tired, or nervous.  You still love to play with tractors and trucks and stuffed animals.  You still don't write your name quite right and would rather guess on letters and numbers than really 'know' them.  You still need some time to grow before we push you into the world of 'school.'

The transition from summer to preschool at Mary's has not been easy.  You're not with the same sweet friends you've been with for the past 2 years, enjoying cartoons, fruit snacks, and rides in Don's Kubota.  You're not at home with your dad.  You're not playing with your brother.  You're not at home baking cookies with me. You're growing up whether you want to or not.

The first week of getting back into the 'school' groove was torture.  You cried all 25+ minutes to town, every single day.  Actually, sobbed is a better choice of words.  It wasn't that you didn't want to be at Mary's, you just wanted to be 'home' more.  I can totally relate, because inside, I was sobbing too.

I wish I could explain to you in a way you would understand that I'd much rather be at home making cookies and pulling weeds in the garden at my leisure.  

I love sitting on the back deck in the mornings while you play.  

I love getting to be at home all day.  

I love the things that summer has to offer in terms of 'time' for us.  

But, the reality is - your mama is a teacher.  She has to drop you off for 9 hours a day.  She has to pack your lunch and hope you eat it.  She has to give her love and attention to 24+ other sweet boys and girls all day, and then find the energy to pour out even more love and attention over you and your brother at the end of those days.

You're in week number 3 and the sobbing has stopped.  You're still clutching that blanket & you're still fighting the early wake-up time, but you're growing.

I know we made the right choice by keeping you 'home' one more year.  Thank you for trusting me & all the praying I did.  When you read this at age 13, while laughing at your purple coloring of Eve, remember that the extra year with Mary gave you new friends, a chance to learn more about Jesus, and an opportunity to just be little one more year. Growing up comes soon enough.


With all my love and excitement for the year of {5} with you,

Mommy

P.S.  I think you and I both have this same look when we sob.  I'm just guessing, but it's probably not our best look.