Wednesday, September 3, 2014


As I sit down to write this post, I am letting out a big exhale.  It has been SO long since I have had more than ten minute chunks of time to myself, and my writing regularity reflects it.  But today, Colin is sleeping.  And both of "the boys," as we refer to them, are in school.

There is silence and calm.  For this moment, at least.  

Casey, my three year old, started school last week.  He is so laid back and chill compared to his brother, that I have to remind myself not to treat his milestones as an after thought.  

He returned to the same school he went to last year, with the same friends, with the same schedule - 5 mornings a week.  The teachers are different of course, but he was already familiar with them.  He is in the same room Braden was in two years ago, and by coincidence, has the same cubby.  When I picked him up on the first day, I arrived a few minutes early and was able to spy on him playing on the playground.  Ahhhh, that kid.  He is so free.  So awesome.  So engaging.  So easygoing...   And all without even trying.  I think that may be the coolest thing about him.

He is just the coolest kid.

Braden started kindergarten yesterday.  I may be biased, but God, he looked so handsome.  

But you can tell in his face, in his eyes, that he was scared.  And my God, so was I! I tried to hide it from him, of course, but it was not lost on me that this was the real deal.  In many ways it's a Hallmark style milestone.  There's nothing different about Braden today than last week.  But what it means for me is one more step towards setting him free.  Braden is at the age now where I can't make friends for him anymore.  I can't walk him to his classroom.  I can't micromanage what he eats at lunch or whether he goes to the bathroom at school (he didn't pee once at school yesterday!) or who he plays with on the playground.  

Braden must learn to navigate his own social journey now, and that is so scary for me.  Because I remember how hard it is.  How hard it still is.  I just want him to be happy.  I want him to always feel secure and confident and loved.  The thought of him ever feeling sad, self conscious, or down on himself is too much for me to bear.  But it's inevitable, as he starts this journey on his own.  And God, that sucks!

Braden isn't as easygoing as his brother.  In many ways, they couldn't be more different.  Braden is sensitive and emotional.  He is a free spirit - creative and fun loving and insightful.  I'm not quite sure what the term "old soul" means, but for some reason, I tend to use it to describe Braden.  But with all of this seriousness, he is also silly.  So silly.  That kid cracks me (and himself) up.  It's hard to be around him and not smile - he is full of charm.

But Braden is also a worrier.  He's anxious.  Fearful.  And I know where he gets it from.  So I get it.  I really get it.  He's nervous.  I'm nervous.  

We're in it together.  But then, not in it together at all.  He's there.  I'm here.  

And that's exactly how it should be.  

I am so proud of both of these kids.  SO PROUD.  I'm proud of the little things.  The fact that they walk and talk and feed themselves, for one.  When they were born, they couldn't do that.  I look at Colin, my 9 month old, and marvel that he will ever be able to do that.  But he will!  My two older boys are living proof.  They have gone from begin helpless infants to kids.  Real kids.  

Watching it has been incredible.  

I am so proud that they have their own distinct personalities.  That they have formed their own identities in spite of me.  I am so proud that they have preferences and opinions and interests.  How did that happen?  I didn't make Braden love music.  I didn't make Casey love letters.  

The fact that I have so little to do with who these boys are, at their core, is just amazing.  It's like Christmas morning, every day.  Who are these boys turning into?  Who are they going to be?  

They are both at school, right this very minute, doing their own thing.  Continually molding into little people with their own identity.  In many ways, I'm a mere bystander.  And as the years pass, I will become more and more on the periphery of their childhood memories.  

I am so grateful to be able to witness their ride.  

Go get 'em, boys.  


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1 comment:

  1. This just made me shed a tear. A couple of tears, actually. You are a wonderful mom!


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