March on, buddy. March on…

Dear Jacob,

Today you turn six.  Today you begin counting your age on two hands instead of one.  You have been a true joy since the moment you arrived.  (Okay, minus the 9 months straight that you cried.  But you were sick so all is forgiven! Smooches!)

I have loved watching you grow – experiencing how such an old soul rediscovers the world and all its stories.  It’s magical, really, the way you embrace all that you’re given with such love and gentleness.  
I love that you cry at the thought of animals in shelters and craw fish killed for dinner.  I love that you have a passion for history and want to read almost any non-fiction book you can get your little hands on. I love that when the world hurts you hurt with it.  
I love how you can get lost for hours playing Star Wars or Fort West or Dinosaurs.  I love that you always sleep on one side of the bed so your cat, Tux, can have the other side.  I love that you seem to know the kingdom, phylum, genus, species, eating habits, and mating habits of every creature you’ve ever read about.  I love that you miss your adenoids – even though they were removed well over a year ago.  I love that you want to taste the snow and play in the rain.  
I love that my lap is still one of your favorite places to sit and that you cannot sleep without telling us ‘I love you.’  I love that you balance the masculine with the feminine and eat beef jerky while you play doll house. I love that you help your daddy cook on the big green egg and that you sneak tastings of seasonings every time you cook together.  I love that your sisters are your best friends and you look forward to clear evenings when you can see the stars. 
Mostly I love that you’re my son and the epitome of an individual.  
Thoreau once said ”if a man loses pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured, or far away.”
I like to think he was somehow referring to you.  
Happy Birthday, Buddy.  I love you more!
Mama

Mad skills, yo.

Clearly they get their grace and moves from me  *snort*>


Nothing like celebrating your 9th wedding anniversary with some family dance moves.

When 4 becomes 5

Today, my son, you turn five.  
And it is with an unmeasurable love that I wish you a magical and happy birthday.  
I wish I could whisper to every person in the world how special you are and how much you’ll someday impact the world.  Though you’ve already impacted mine in immense ways.  
With each day and each year we have the pleasure of watching you grow, you become more and more who you’re destined to be – and that ‘who’ is someone spectacular.  
The little boy I already know asks the most intriguing questions about pirates, paleontology, and the world the Lord has made.  The little boy I love experiences a degree of empathy that I believe could solve the world’s problems if it were bottled and given to those that need it most.  The little boy I know never realizes how breathtaking it is to feel his head lay against my chest while we read our secret chapter books before bed.  The little boy I love has no idea what a better person he make me want to be.  
Happy Birthday, Jacob.  I know you’re afraid that you’ll miss being four.  But, I promise the adventures that await you will make being five just as amazing.  I love you always.  
Mama

There’s no question that they are wonderfully made

“The child must know that he is a miracle, that since the beginning of the world there hasn’t been, and until the end of the world there will not be, another child like him.” – Pablo Casals

What is an adenoid, anyway?

My little man is having surgery Monday morning.

It’s fairly minor, outpatient surgery.
Still scary…
He’s excited about the possibility of Popsicles, ice cream, and television for the next few days. He asked if he could bring his night-time snuggle animals with him to the hospital.
I said yes and he tried to pack them Sunday night just to be sure they’d be making the trip with us.
He went to bed wearing new pajamas and asked me as I tucked him in if both me and his Daddy would be there tomorrow in case he needed us.
I assured him we would.
He smiled.

I’ll see you tomorrow for my surgery, Mama.


There is a reason God only gave me one son

Scene: Sunday evening just after bath time.  Hubby and I are in the bedroom discussing a recent phone conversation.  4 year old Son enters…

Jacob: Mama, my penis is huge.  Do you want to see how huge it is?

Me: Oh. My.  *exits room quickly*

Hubby: *laughing* Son, come here. We need to talk.

Me: *shouting from the other room* Yes, talk to the boy!

The end.

Disguise

Last week our son’s karate studio closed.

Effective Immediately.

No notice. No goodbye’s.

We spent that evening and several days following consoling a heartbroken little boy – a boy who always seems to get the short end of the stick.  A boy who hits rough spots and hits them hard.

We even discussed the hope that he’s just getting all his rough spots out of the way while he’s young and the rest will be smooth sailing.

We didn’t want to search for a new studio.  Okay, I didn’t want to search for a new studio.  I honestly thought nothing could compare to the greatness we found in the small studio we had joined.

But, for the sake of my son I knew we needed to move on, cut our losses, and discover a love of karate elsewhere.

And today we did.

Today we joined a new studio that I initially turned down due to the face that it made me feel all Cobra Kai Sweep The Leg.


Aggressive.  Hard.  Mean.

I was hesitant.  But, I stepped inside for the sake of my son.

We left with an invitation to come to class and a promise that the benefits would be immediate.

We returned an hour later for his first class where I watched my son glow.

He joined in and laughed and turned into that amazing little boy I glimpse daily in his eyes.

He was my Jacob.  My smart, amazing, marches to the beat of his own drummer, little man.

He left full of excitement and his first uniform patch – for Courage

It takes courage to come to your first class Jacob and you are a courageous boy!


I’m very delighted that my initial impression was completely wrong.  And, I think the loss of our small studio is becoming a blessing in disguise for our little man.

Mama, I like it here.  Can I come back again?

Maybe it wasn’t a hard spot after all…

From Adam and Eve to The Empty Tomb: 4 year old style!

Before the video he gave me a heads up that Eve was a girl. Just in case you didn’t know, Mama!


Thanks, kid. I always wondered about the sexual identity of the creation story.

Who can argue that logic!?

I had not even finished my first cup of coffee this morning when my son and I had the following conversation:

Jacob: Mommy, when you’re old and creepy you’ll have to go live with Ma and Granddaddy.

Me: And, why is that?

Jacob: Because old people have to live with old families.

Me: And, Jacob, where will you live when you’re old?

Jacob: Far, far away in the woods…after the worker men build my house.

Me: Well, if you’re old don’t you have to live with old people, too?

Jacob: That’s why I’ll live in the woods with all you guys!

So, that’s my destiny: creepy old lady that lives in the woods with her in-laws and her grown son.  That has Texas Chainsaw Massacre weird, horror movie written all over it!

Sorry, kid.  I think I’ll pass.

“Redshirting”

I recently had a conference with my son’s preschool teacher.  While she raved about his intelligence and his heart of gold, she mentioned that we may want to consider waiting an extra year to enroll him in Kindergarten.

Her reasoning was simple: while he’s extremely smart he tends to be a perfectionist and she’s concerned that he’ll move through his school work too slowly.  Plus, if we wait a year to enroll him he’ll be the oldest and more mature.  Bottom line: he’s a boy with a Summer birthday.

This is not the first time I have been given this advice.  Ever since he began preschool at the age of 3 we’ve been told that a late birthday should mean waiting a year to start kindergarten. Nothing seems to be of any relevance other than his birthday – at least that is the impression I am getting.

I have been struggling with this for a while.  I have been researching the advantages and disadvantages to the point where my head was spinning.  And, I think I have finally figured out why this whole ‘holding back’ thing bothers me:

It’s the newest trend for parents.

I am bothered by the fact that the entire idea of starting a child in school a year late is becoming the cool thing to do.  While I understand the maturity thing I am completely bothered by the fact that caring about one’s effort and being a perfectionist is a bad thing.

I have always followed my instincts with my children – especially with my son.  I know that ultimately his father and I will make the right decision, but I can’t help but want to scream when someone automatically assumes that a late birthday should translate to waiting an entire year.

I would love to hear what others have to say about this whole ‘redshirting’ debate.  Do you believe that waiting is best? Or, are you more old school in your thoughts?  Talk amongst yourselves.