Dear Mrs. Short,

Tomorrow is a big day for you.  Actually it's a big day for us too.

Our son is starting kindergarten and he's going to be in your class.

He's going to be one of your 31.

This is Mack. 

He's freckled, a bit mischievous, and wants to be like his brother when he grows up.

He loves to paint, wishes he could read, and would sneak his blanket to school in his back-pack if he could.

Playing with his toys is his favorite past-time, and riding his bike is a close 2nd.

You're going to love him.

You're going to love his eyes that twinkle, his dimpled chin, and his helping hands.

You're going to love the way he says little, his laugh, and his grin that grabs you as soon as you meet him.

...................

May you know what a gift you are to us ... even before the first day of school.

A gift because you are going to be teaching our sweet Mack to read, and write, and be a friend to those that need friends more than life itself.

A gift because you're going to be patient and kind and just the right beginning for Mack's life as a student.

A gift because you're going to see the best in him and you're going to help him shine!

A gift because you are our son's teacher.

....................

Thank you in advance for being all that you need to be and more.

Awesome things are about to happen ... 

and tomorrow is just the beginning.

Cheering you on and appreciating you from now until forever - 

Mack's mom & the rest of his fan club

Dear Mrs. Bacon

Dear Mrs. Bacon,

My son is about to spend approximately 147 days in your classroom - starting tomorrow.

147 days of opportunity - to succeed and even to fail.

147 days of learning, reading, writing - becoming the young man he's supposed to be.

147 days of getting at least one thing wrong, but hopefully at least 38 things right.

147 days of being a watcher, and then a doer.

147 days of holding his pencil with his left hand as he attempts to share his life on paper about our small ranch, his horse, the cows, his brother, his dad, and maybe even me with you.

147 days of stammering on words that begin with {w} and trying to make himself slow down enough to get his ideas out with a bit of embarrassment.

147 days of loving you, his friends, and everything else about school, but loving farm life & chores even more.

147 days of being a big brother at school and not just at home.

147 days of not being the fastest with math facts, but spelling everything in sight correctly.

147 days of his life - starting tomorrow - are going to be with you.

......................................

So as you lie awake tonight thinking about all of those things that should and could, and probably will happen on the first day of school, please know that I'm giving you one of the best gifts I have to offer.

I'm giving you a  piece of me.

A piece of me that has a stubborn streak, a compassionate heart, and a competitive nature.

A piece of me that doesn't like to be wrong, and doesn't always take criticism well.

A piece of me that loves peanut butter sandwiches, cantaloupe, and red licorice.

A piece of me that is admired by many, and entrusted with much.

A piece of me that will make the next 147 days some of the best days of your life.

..............................................

I trust in you with all that I have - knowing that you are going to give my son 147 days of the best you have to offer.

I believe in you with all that I am - knowing that your expectations are high and your heart is open to love him for who he is.

And I'm thanking you now - for the next 147 school days - because you are going to be my son's teacher.  You will be spending more {awake} hours in the day with him than I will - and I know with all my heart that you are going to help him to see the gifts in the ordinary while making his world - and yours - something extraordinary.

With appreciation for all that 3rd grade is about,

Mason's mom ... one of your biggest fans!

a friend.

A conversation I don't ever want to forget from a Sunday in August 2013.

Mack: Hey mommy, I think I already have a friend at my school. {pause} ... Yep, I do have a friend.


Me: You do? Who is it?


Mack: I think you know him.


Me: I do?


Mack: yep ... {pause} it's my brother. ... He's always going to be my friend.

I hope when you're 58 and 56 ... you're still smiling these goofy smiles, still climbing stairs to the top of something beautiful, and still the greatest of friends.

sitting behind the wheel.

Dear Mason,

There are these moments in the life of your children that you hope you never forget.  Moments like first smiles, first steps, first words, first swim lesson, first day of school, pretty much the first time of everything.

Today held one of those moments in the life of you.

I stood at the kitchen window and watched the tractor come toward me expecting to see your dad, but instead saw you.

You.

My 8 year old ... with your hands on the wheel, and your eyes straight ahead.  Your dad watched and guided, and you drove.  There was no, {I'm sitting right next to you if you mess up} kind of security and you were totally fine with it.  Me, on the other hand ... I was a wreck.

How can you be old enough to drive a tractor?
How can you be brave enough to even attempt such a thing?
How can this moment of you being something more than my little boy wishing to be big enough to help be happening?

Tonight at the dinner table we were talking about the 3 gifts for the day.  Today's prompt was gifts sitting.  Your dad laughed out loud and announced he hadn't sat today, so it was kind of pointless to even list ... but then saw my glance around the table and at the piles of food and then said, "Well, dinner sure is good and I guess I'm sitting."  {nice save}

You were quiet, and then looked at me with these eyes filled with glistening pride and asked, "Does sitting on a tractor count ... like when you're driving a tractor?"

My eyes welled with tears.

"Yes son, that counts."

............................................

May you always count sitting behind the wheel of a tractor as a gift.