
At the kindergarten concert.
After the concert (not a metamorphosis, just really good face paint.)
Dear Will,
I was almost willing to believe it when you turned five, with those long lanky legs barely fitting on my lap. But it certainly doesn’t seem that another year could have gone by so quickly, meaning that you are six today.
So here we are—you a first grader to be, and me a mama for six years, as of 11:39 this morning. Recently I’ve been aghast to discover that between you and Henry, we really and truly are out of the baby stage at our house, with nary a diaper or a sippy cup to be found anywhere. But then I’ve been realizing how much fun it is becoming, and how much more fun we have ahead. We draw together, read side by side, laugh at jokes (real ones, unlike your brother who thinks potty talk is hilarious) and discuss the natural world and its processes. I marvel at your athletic prowess, get stumped by your intricate questions and figure out, along with you, just how many gummy sharks one person can really eat. You build and create endless displays in Playmobil and Lego, you draw and sketch, you swim, you run, you race, you write, you sing and you show no sign of ever giving up that beloved faded, once-green “thisy” or the thumb that goes with it.
You spent your kindergarten year in a gentle new school, beautifully growing and bridging the space between our beloved nursery school and the wilds of elementary school. But just like you suddenly seemed much too loud and boisterous for your nursery school at the end of last year, you have, seemingly overnight, outgrown the petite size of the Montessori school classroom materials. I think, whether I am ready or not, you are clamoring for the start of your elementary school experience.
So off you will go this fall on a big yellow bus, you with the long lanky legs and deep brown eyes and the eyelashes that just won’t quit. You’ll carry your blue backpack and wave goodbye, ready as always for a new day and a new adventure. But despite being six today, there is no possible way you will ever be anything but my big brown-eyed baby boy.
Love,
Mama
Photos from Montessori School “round the sun” ceremony.




