The first week of school is almost over and the novelty has worn off. The adrenaline is gone replaced by tired meltdowns. Showers occurred in the pool last night with a quick rinse off in the hose after our swim. The snooze button is hit and questions of when this school charade is over are asked.
In the weeks leading up to school beginning, I was frequently asked how I felt about my last born going to kindergarten. I was pressured to tell of my plans for what I was going to do with my life now that I have seven free hours each day. Don't you fret, dear friends, I can fill those six hours like a squirrel can fill it's cheeks with nuts. Here's the interesting thing, I wasn't sad about my baby growing up.
Sure, I miss the moments of insanity of a colicky infant, a one year old that was far too sneaky and mischievous, and a four year old whose love language was personal time. I miss the coos and the firsts and the snuggles. I get nostalgic every time Timehop taunts me with precious pictures and videos from the past. While I engage in the regular mommy sadness of life going by way too fast, I also relish in the joy of watching these precious little men become their own people.
God knew exactly what He was doing when He designed us. Isn't that something to realize and remember: the One who created us knows what He's doing. Just as I get excited for summer to turn into fall (c'mon pumpkin everything), I am overjoyed to watch the unveiling of my children right before my eyes. Thanks to my first born whom I get to practice and make mistakes with, I have learned that I can try and write my boys's stories desperately holding onto the past frustrating and depressing myself OR I can sit back and watch a new life grow and develop finding his passions and purpose rejoicing in who he is becoming. I choose the latter.
Raising children is an awesome privilege and an opportunity to learn far greater about yourself than you could ever teach your wee ones. I am so relieved that my job is to guide them on their journey of discovery and not write their story. The best part is, I get to sit back and watch it all unfold. I can wrap my gifts (my boys) up in a beautifully wrapped present with an extraordinary bow presenting them to the world but it's not the wrapping on the outside that sustains, it's what's on the inside. They are who God created them to be and let's be honest, my wrapping jobs usually look like a two year old did it.
While I do feel like life goes by entirely too fast, I am excited with each passing stage. Wyatt is the most precious kindergarten you will ever see. Ever. I don't exaggerate;) His backpack is too big for his little body but he carries it with pride. You can't see him on the bus because he is so tiny. He comes home exuberant excitedly talking forever nonstop about his day. It's the most incredible experience each day watching him come into his own and making his own little friend on the bus. Jackson is an incredible kid; an incredible human, really. I would like to be him when I grow up. He's gone from a very difficult strong-willed preschooler to the kindest smartest nine year old I know. His faith is beyond belief and his love is wider than the ocean. I love nine years old just as much as I loved 8 years old and 7 and 6 and so on.
My first grader is sweet and innocent and beginning the scary-for-parents task of developing his own friendships. I love this phase because I get to see a glimpse of their wings and determine whether or not those roots my husband I planted stuck. It's a stage filled with opportunity to begin those hard conversations about trust, how friends impact us, and why it's important to be true to who we are and what we believe; all those conversations you want to start now so they will continue into those awkward teen years.
So, when I am asked if I am sad that my baby is starting big boy school the answer is no. I am excited to see these miniature humans become real people; who God created them to be. I look forward to deep conversations that not only challenge them but me, as well. I can't wait to joke with them in a big person way. Scott and I are currently figuring out how we are going to embarrass them when they are a little older and how we can interrupt their precious sleep when they are teens as they did to us when they were young (payback, baby).
God didn't just give us natural seasons to enjoy knowing we needed to see the extraordinary colors of fall, or the joy of the first snow, or the miracle of life that seems to happen overnight in the spring. He also gave us seasons of life knowing we couldn't survive in the diaper changing, spit-up cleaning, screaming, tantrum throwing, cabinet ransacking stage of baby and toddlerhood forever. He knew we needed to grow with our babies standing back in awe of who they have become. Life can slow down just a tad but I don't want to push rewind and I don't want to push pause. I want to continue forward in excitement witnessing my boys becoming men and watching them fly.
"Train a child in the way he should go and when he is older he will not depart" Proverbs 22:6
Love & Blessings,
Meg
In the weeks leading up to school beginning, I was frequently asked how I felt about my last born going to kindergarten. I was pressured to tell of my plans for what I was going to do with my life now that I have seven free hours each day. Don't you fret, dear friends, I can fill those six hours like a squirrel can fill it's cheeks with nuts. Here's the interesting thing, I wasn't sad about my baby growing up.
Sure, I miss the moments of insanity of a colicky infant, a one year old that was far too sneaky and mischievous, and a four year old whose love language was personal time. I miss the coos and the firsts and the snuggles. I get nostalgic every time Timehop taunts me with precious pictures and videos from the past. While I engage in the regular mommy sadness of life going by way too fast, I also relish in the joy of watching these precious little men become their own people.
God knew exactly what He was doing when He designed us. Isn't that something to realize and remember: the One who created us knows what He's doing. Just as I get excited for summer to turn into fall (c'mon pumpkin everything), I am overjoyed to watch the unveiling of my children right before my eyes. Thanks to my first born whom I get to practice and make mistakes with, I have learned that I can try and write my boys's stories desperately holding onto the past frustrating and depressing myself OR I can sit back and watch a new life grow and develop finding his passions and purpose rejoicing in who he is becoming. I choose the latter.
Raising children is an awesome privilege and an opportunity to learn far greater about yourself than you could ever teach your wee ones. I am so relieved that my job is to guide them on their journey of discovery and not write their story. The best part is, I get to sit back and watch it all unfold. I can wrap my gifts (my boys) up in a beautifully wrapped present with an extraordinary bow presenting them to the world but it's not the wrapping on the outside that sustains, it's what's on the inside. They are who God created them to be and let's be honest, my wrapping jobs usually look like a two year old did it.
While I do feel like life goes by entirely too fast, I am excited with each passing stage. Wyatt is the most precious kindergarten you will ever see. Ever. I don't exaggerate;) His backpack is too big for his little body but he carries it with pride. You can't see him on the bus because he is so tiny. He comes home exuberant excitedly talking forever nonstop about his day. It's the most incredible experience each day watching him come into his own and making his own little friend on the bus. Jackson is an incredible kid; an incredible human, really. I would like to be him when I grow up. He's gone from a very difficult strong-willed preschooler to the kindest smartest nine year old I know. His faith is beyond belief and his love is wider than the ocean. I love nine years old just as much as I loved 8 years old and 7 and 6 and so on.
My first grader is sweet and innocent and beginning the scary-for-parents task of developing his own friendships. I love this phase because I get to see a glimpse of their wings and determine whether or not those roots my husband I planted stuck. It's a stage filled with opportunity to begin those hard conversations about trust, how friends impact us, and why it's important to be true to who we are and what we believe; all those conversations you want to start now so they will continue into those awkward teen years.
So, when I am asked if I am sad that my baby is starting big boy school the answer is no. I am excited to see these miniature humans become real people; who God created them to be. I look forward to deep conversations that not only challenge them but me, as well. I can't wait to joke with them in a big person way. Scott and I are currently figuring out how we are going to embarrass them when they are a little older and how we can interrupt their precious sleep when they are teens as they did to us when they were young (payback, baby).
God didn't just give us natural seasons to enjoy knowing we needed to see the extraordinary colors of fall, or the joy of the first snow, or the miracle of life that seems to happen overnight in the spring. He also gave us seasons of life knowing we couldn't survive in the diaper changing, spit-up cleaning, screaming, tantrum throwing, cabinet ransacking stage of baby and toddlerhood forever. He knew we needed to grow with our babies standing back in awe of who they have become. Life can slow down just a tad but I don't want to push rewind and I don't want to push pause. I want to continue forward in excitement witnessing my boys becoming men and watching them fly.
"Train a child in the way he should go and when he is older he will not depart" Proverbs 22:6
Love & Blessings,
Meg
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