To LO on the eve of your first day of kindergarten

Oh my sweet, dear, big boy.  How you've changed this summer and this past year.  Just yesterday Papa looked at you and said "my, aren't you looking a lot like a six year old all of a sudden," and he's right.  I had thought your face lost all it's baby/toddler-ness as you aged from four to five, but it continues to change and look more mature.  Maybe it's your two grown up teeth, maybe it's the few freckles that have popped up on your nose.  I think it's in your eyes though.  They are looking more brave, more confident, and smarter.  I love when those emerging traits combine into boyish feats likes tree climbing, or bike riding to your new school like we did yesterday.  It breaks my heart when you use them to trick your brother or pull off some other cunning feat.  I can see the appeal to you in those things.  It is exciting when you can use your mind and body to manipulate the things around you.  I hope and pray you will learn to enjoy that skill wisely and with love.  I will do my best to teach you about that, but in a few days, I will have less of you to teach.  Perhaps more accurately, I'll have more to teach, but less opportunity.  Soon life, the world, our community, and your teachers will begin to teach you their ways, and your dad and I will begin the work of choosing which lessons we support and which we try to undo.  To be honest,  I'm a little nervous about all of that.  You're nervous too, I can also see that in your eyes.  We're nervous about different parts of the same event.  Lately, some people close to me have let me know they think I'm making some pretty major mistakes in that department.  That makes me sad.  I have faith though that I am the best mama, and Da the best dad you could have.  We are uniquely qualified to be the judges and leaders in your life.  We will surely make mistakes, as all people do, but I have confidence in your path in life.  I hope one day you will grow confident in the same.  For now, I will give you my best, and I will do my mama's job of not letting you know I'm nervous for you.  I have every confidence you will tackle your nervous excitement with gusto.  You will be a whiz in kindergarten, and, I hope, you'll grow socially better than I ever did as a student.  I hope I'll teach you that it's ok to wait for friends of quality, and to be one of those yourself.  I have always felt I could learn something from anyone, and I hope you'll realize that soon as well.  I hope you'll find the source of real self-confidence and no longer take as a personal insult when others are stronger or faster than you.  God gives each of us different gifts.  Our culture tells us we can be anything we want if we try hard enough.  That is not true.  I will never be an astronaut, or an Olympic track runner, or a comedian, but I can respect those gifts in others.  This is heavy stuff for a boy just 5 and 10/12 years old.  I guess on the eve of kindergarten, this mama thinks about all of life.  It's a point of remembering all my hopes for you, and also my helplessness in giving any of them to you.  So have fun, laugh with others (they aren't laughing at you, I promise), enjoy snacks as long as they last, and help me remember not to take it all so seriously.  I love you my strong, handsome, brilliant, and quirky boy.  Go conquer the world...or at least kindergarten.  I'm so glad to have a front row seat.