Lesson 41

Here we are. Less than 2 weeks before you start school. We've filled the summer with lazy days, trips to Legoland and the aquarium, days at Paradise Park, time at the pool, our first family vacation, and a few park days when it wasn't so hot outside we'd fry. I hope you're ready. Some days you're excited about school, others you're not. I know you're going to do well. You're so smart. You ask tons of questions. You're reading pretty well, even if you refuse to do it. Your writing still needs work, but you're stubborn like Dad, so I'm just going to let the teacher solve that problem. I don't want you to hate it before you even start. You have a good base skill on writing, you'll learn quickly. My anxiety for you is increasing. I worry about you meeting friends, and how you'll adapt to lunch at the same time every day, with limited eating time. (You like to eat slow, and you're picky!) We bought your school clothes, and I almost cried. You're grown up. I don't mean that I don't still have a lot of parenting to do or that you don't still have years of growing to do. But now I'm going to have to share you. Share you with new friends and teachers. Share you with new activities and experiences. I'm not going to be there for all of your firsts anymore. The first time you eat lunch at school. The first time you're picked first for a team at recess. I'll be ok. You'll be ok. I'm planning to have a tea party all ready for you the first day you get off the bus so I can hear all about it. :) Which brings me to lesson 41...


I love you. I love you forever. I will always want to hear about your day. I will always want to hear about your life. I would hope by now that I don't need to say it, but in case I do. I will always want you to talk to me about anything. Even on days when I don't think my brain can take anymore. I'm not going to lie, I know there are times where I tune you out a bit. (In my defense you DO talk ALL the time. Like me. ;) ) I know there's going to be a time when you don't want to talk to me. I know you'll grow out of it. It will kill me, but I'll get through it. I know eventually, the "teen years" will be over and you'll be back to telling me things. (I was a teen too.) But always know that I will always want to hear about you. So, in 2 weeks when we have our tea party and you tell me all about your first day of school I will listen, and I promise, I won't freak out if you tell me you had your first kiss on your first day.