Higher Education

The little man sat in our kitchen, happily slurping up a hot fudge sundae. This week he passed his swim test, passing him to the next level for swim lessons. We celebrated his big achievement with ice cream.

"You're such a big kid now," I said. "Now you can move up to big boy Swim 1 and you're starting Kindergarten. You're all grown up."

As our conversation progressed, the little man became more curious about what lie ahead of him in the future.

"How many grades?" the little man asked.

"Well, you have Kindergarten, then you move on to First Grade, then Second Grade, then Third Grade ... all the way up to 12. There are 12 grades," I said.

The little man's eyes got big. "Then I'm all growed up!" he said.

"Well ... then you get to go to college," I said. "It's a super special school with four more grades."

The little man's eyes got bigger.

"And you get to live in a fancy house called Delta Upsilon," I said, marking my husband's Greek affiliation.

"Dwelta upsilawn ... that's a silly name," the little man laughed. "I don't wanna live in a fancy house."

"Well ... there's other houses you could live in," I said. "There's another super cool one called Theta Xi." (Marking his Uncle Lambo's Greek affiliation.)

The little man giggled some more. "Thtweata eye ... that's silly!"

"Well, where would you like to live when you go to college?" I finally asked the little man.

"I wanna live with Papa," he said. (Who, coincidentally, does live in our Alma mater's hometown.) "I live with Papa at his house."

"What about Grammy Jo?" I asked as I teased him. "Could she do your laundry and make sure you eat dinner every night, if you're living with them?"

"Yeah!" the little man exclaimed. "While Papa and I play with the skid loader."

And with that, college suddenly became a lot more affordable.

Prologue

Last week, it became more evident than ever that one chapter of our lives was slowly closing, and another just barely beginning.

For the last five years we have been taking on one milestone at a time: the first "I've fed him, changed him, burped him and swaddled him and he's STILL crying" milestone, his first cold, the first solid foods, the first words, first steps, etc. We ran to his bedroom to make sure he was still breathing the first time we woke in the morning and realized he had slept the WHOLE night. We even survived potty training.

And now we find ourselves at the beginning of one monumental milestone: Kindergarten.

For the last few weeks, we've been getting all the necessary ducks in a row to enroll the little man in Kindergarten. First was the parent's meeting - a brief introduction and crash course into what would become quite the gauntlet of Kindergarten enrollment.

Then came the lottery - our elementary school only has so many slots available for Full-Day Kindergarten. Because our current daycare only takes them until they are school-age, we needed a slot in the full-day program. So we submitted our entry into the lottery and waited. I went home every day for lunch to check the mail. I knew the mailman came around Noon each day.

My husband became increasingly amused at my stalking of the mailman.

And the one day I cannot go home for lunch, it arrives. Our letter notifying us that our name had indeed been selected in the lottery - the little man had his slot.

The next few weeks were a flurry of paperwork gathering, faxing and phone calls. It took more paperwork to enroll the little man into Kindergarten than it did to get him his passport.

It all finally came to a head last week at Kindergarten Round-Up. Our family got to meet the teachers, the Principal, tour the school, etc. One of the Principal's major talking points was about whether or not your child was ready for Kindergarten - that it was perfectly fine for parents to keep them back a year if there were any doubts. The Principal herself had chosen to hold one of her children back - she said she had never regretted it.

The mommy part inside of me did allow those thoughts to seep in - is the little man really ready for Kindergarten? He is far from grown up - he can't even tie his own shoes yet.

And just as I started to entertain those thoughts of doubt, those thoughts were interrupted by "Hey, TAG - you're IT!" as the little man instigated a game of Tag with the other kids in the school gymnasium. Before long, all of the future Kindergartners were running about, laughing and tagging each other.

He's going to be just fine ... I thought to myself as I heard the little man laugh with his new friends.

It's mommy that is going to have the tough transition.

Wrecker

Grammy Jo and Papa have a new addition to their family - after we brought home our new little ball of white fluff, they were inspired to get a little ball of black fluff.

And so enters Riker the puppy. Or, as the little man pronounces it, "Wrecker."

The little man was thrilled when Papa stopped by our house on his way home from picking up the new puppy from the breeder, which was in a neighboring state. Fortunately, our home was about halfway between the two, so the little man got to meet the new puppy and get some Papa time.

From the very start, Riker and the little man were buddies. The little man liked that the puppy was so small (just 3 pounds) and I think the puppy liked that the little man was smaller, too. Before long they were running about the house with the other dogs, the best of friends.

It has now been several weeks since we saw Riker - but the little man still hasn't forgotten his little buddy. Fortunately for him, we will be puppy-sitting this week and Riker will be joining our family for a few days. The anticipation has been building up in the little man.

Last week, the little man had the opportunity to be named "Helper of the Day" for his preschool class. This important position means the helper gets to help the teacher do everything that day - even having to say the morning prayer. The little man, ever the performance artist, was excited to be able to say the prayer for the day. I asked him that morning what he was going to say.

"I awlready know what I'm going to pray for," he said with a big smile. "I awlready thought about it. You're supposed to pray for something special to you, to keep them safe."

I walked the little man down the hallway to his class.

"Have a good day," I said as I kissed him goodbye. "Have fun Mr. Helper."

Later that day, when I picked up my beaming Helper of the Day, he had to tell me all about how he helped the teacher and was a "zillion good" as the Helper of the Day.

"So, did you say your prayer for Mommy and Daddy?" I asked.

"No," he replied.

"Papa? Grammy Jo? Nana?" I asked, going through the list of usuals.

"No," the little man said.

"Well then who? You did get to say the prayer, didn't you?" I asked.

"I said a prayer for Wrecker," the little man said, smiling. "Because he's just a little baby dog, and God needs to keep him safe."

The little man was beaming, proud of his prayer.

And somewhere, up above, the little man's prayer was undoubtedly heard for his little friend.

Down the Aisle

I can't believe it's been a month since my last post - so far, 2011 has definitely started off as a busy year.

To combat the winter dreariness, our family took our annual trip to Florida a few weeks ago. The sun and warmth are always a welcome reprieve from winter and the little man had started asking when we were going long before the first snowflake fell. It appears he - like us - has become accustomed to a little winter getaway.

The good news is that because we live in Kansas, we have easy access to pretty much anywhere in the U.S. The bad news is that doesn't mean getting there is quick.

But the little man doesn't mind so long as airplanes are involved.

To his delight, our trip to Florida this year took a total of 4 airplanes to shuttle our family to and from our destination - two flights up, two flights home.

And four cockpits full of pilots who love little visitors.

Fortunately, we had one little visitor who is not shy one bit. In fact, I'm not sure he even knows what the word "shy" means.

As we boarded our first plane the little man was eagerly tramping down the gangway. Once we stepped onto the plane, the little man said his usual "hello" to the flight attendant greeting everyone and as I prepared to direct the little man to our seats, he decided to take a detour.

"Hi, are you the pilot?" I hear the little man as I notice he is no longer in front of me, but rather in the cockpit of the plane. In the paranoia-fueled days of post-9/11, I immediately reached for the little man, wondering if his presence was OK or not.

"Oh, he's OK, you can stand back here and wait," the flight attendant said. My husband stood back and waited while I went on to our seats. A few moments later a very smiley little man came tramping down the aisle, telling me all about his new friends, the pilots.

As we took off, the captain made his usual welcome speech over the intercom, along with a personal welcome aboard to his new little friend.

The above scenario was then repeated three more times. By the last flight, the little man had made such a camaraderie with the pilots that they told both my husband and I to go ahead and sit down - that the little man could hang out with them.

As the final passengers took their seats, we finally heard a small voice over the intercom:

"I"m coming down the aisle now!" the little man's voice boomed over the speakers.

And a very smiley little man proudly tramped down the aisle.

Destination ...

In a previous post, I shared how the little man (with mommy's help) packed a shoebox full of goodies as part of Operation Christmas Child to be shipped to a child in a developing country so that that child could also have some Christmas cheer.

As part of our project, I also received a tracking bar so that the little man could know where exactly in this great big world that his box was shipped to.

And the destination was ...

Mexico!

Twenty-nine percent of Mexico’s 112.4 million people are 14-years-old or younger. In 2009, 640,424 shoe box gifts were delivered to children in Mexico, which first received the gifts in 1995. Since then, 5,422,743 children have received a shoe box gift.

Our family has been fortunate enough to have traveled to Mexico on many occasions, and the little man - just this summer - has also joined us on our travels there. When I told him where his shoebox had gone, he smiled, having remembered his own visit to Mexico.

And hopefully, somewhere just south of us, there is another little man enjoying his brand new crayons, green harmonica (just like the little man's), toys and Wall-E toothbrush.

And of course, Smarties.

The Little Man Turns 5!!!

Much to mommy's dismay, the little man turned 5 just before Christmas. An early Christmas present just five short years ago, our Decembers have forever been marked not by the joyous holiday season, but by also the little man's birthday.

I don't know if it is a curse or a blessing to have been born just a few days before Christmas. I am so paranoid that the little man will feel as if his birthday is never really celebrated due to it's proximity to Christmas (thus a curse), that I have made it a personal mission of mine to ensure the little man's birthday is celebrated to the full extent (thus a blessing).

Ask any friend or family member and you will know that I have explicit rules when it comes to the little man's birthday:

1. His birthday is to be celebrated on his birthday - no "you should celebrate his birthday on his half-birthday so you can space it out between Christmas."
2. His birthday presents are not to be wrapped in Christmas paper.
3. His birthday presents are just that - no birthday/Christmas combined gifts. I don't care if his birthday is the same week as Christmas.

So, as such, I of course began obsessing over his birthday in true mommy form. Planning, plotting and thinking of ways to make this birthday special. Before any thoughts of Christmas, or even Thanksgiving, my mommy mind was turning.

When it came down to it, the little man asked me if he could have his birthday party at the same place we had it last year. I had already come up with a list of no less than 100 other possibilities, all of which were quickly shot down by the little man.

And so mommy learned lesson No. 1 of letting go of the little boy and embracing my new older and and independent big boy - letting him make his own choices.

For me, 5-years-old is a monumental milestone in my son's life. He has definitely grown by leaps and bounds over the last year. He will begin Kindergarten this fall. He even chooses his own clothes at the stores now.

And so I took a deep breath and let go.

{Well, a little bit, anyways.}

And we promptly booked a party at the same place. We handed out invitations to all of his friends. We let the little man choose his birthday cake.

And we welcomed the little man into big boyhood with one great party.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Tonight the husband had to work late, so it was just the little man and I. It was just minutes before our usual time where we venture upstairs and begin bedtime routine of brushing teeth and reading stories.

The little man hopped up on to my lap.

"Snuggles, mommy," he said as I wrapped my arms around him.

"Guess what?" the little man whispered.

"What?" I replied.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you MORE," I said as I hugged him.

"I love you as big as the house," he replied.

"Hmmmm," I said as I thought. "I love you as big as a toot-toot boat."

The little man giggled.

"Whoa," he said. "I love you as big as a ZILLION toot-toot boats."

"Wow! That's really big, mommy can't beat that one," I said. "I love you, too."

And with that, bedtime was postponed a bit for a few more minutes of precious snuggles.