(Today, a break in the normal food routine to pause and share something that has been on my heart a lot this last week)
An Open Letter to R and G:
My sweet, sweet boys,
Ok. You boys are usually great listeners, but I need you to listen to me a little better on this:
please, please stop growing up so fast.
G, last week you went to your last preschool class. Ever. The sweet, protective, innocent walls of your preschool opened up so you may march forth to kindergarten. You couldn't be more ready, but I am not.
I love the preschool years. All the questions, "whys?" and milestones of learning. Learning life skills like making friends, pouring drinks, using scissors and taking turns. These lessons are tender and your curious mind loved learning each one.
Soon you will take a bus, drive to R's school and discover all sorts of new things; many will be wonderful and exciting, some will not. It is the "not" that I don't relish.
Boys, if you could see my perspective, you would look back on the last several years and feel a little shell-shocked by two truths:
*how fast the years pass
*how time seems to be going ever faster
Just look at you, R! You are about to reach the "half-way-through-elementary-school point." Your world is growing ever-bigger and I feel a strain between wanting so much to hold on tight, and knowing, deep down, that you will thrive with each new level of independence. You need to grow, spread and seek...
So boys, if there was a "pause" button, it would be pressed. You both are still so sweet in so many ways. You get along and play so well together. You still have wonder in your eyes.
I hope I can breathe in and focus on the look of wonder in your eyes and call upon it when, one day too soon, you'll be all grown up and far from anything little anymore.
I love you forever,