Jack started his second day of second grade today. It was a long and lovely, somewhat unstructured summer during which he appears to have grown about a foot. His hair went from brown to blonde from long days at the beach and afternoons playing basketball in the street with his buddies. He’s getting more complex emotionally as he matures, conversations with him have never come all that easy unless he initiates them, and they seem even less so lately. I know him well enough to understand what triggers his rough times, but another part of me feels desperate to lasso his little soul and massive heart and hold on for dear life. He’s getting older, and while I can see slight shadow of his babyhood in his cheeks I know this year will likely eclipse any and all glimmers of the toddler he was so very briefly.
Second grade was my favorite year in elementary school. These years are so incredibly pivotal, and feels almost more so as a parent watching while they venture through each milestone socially, emotionally and in their education. I tried not to hold his hand or ask for a hug before leaving him in his classroom. Watching him as he looks around his desk nervously, for friends, for familiarity, for security, I want to so badly be right there with him in every single moment just as I have his whole life. I want to protect him and his heart, and learning to let go is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
We’re taking baby steps.
He-we-will be just fine. This kid is nails.
Zoe also changed over the summer. Her features also defining by the day, but it’s her personality and the little lady she’s becoming that blows my hair back every day. On most days, I can see the Virgo in her blossoming: She organizes her shoes and makes her bed daily, and has become so incredibly opinionated and particular about things that we just sort of let her find her mojo and go with it (to a degree). She is big heart and engulfing emotion most of the time, and I’m far less concerned about her year in first grade than I was or am about Jack. She walked into that classroom like she owned it on the very first day, and came home announcing how “awesome” her new class is. She is the fiercest little girl I know, yet there’s an intense sensitivity there too, something that even I can barely touch or reach sometimes.
Beau went from a toddler to an actual boy in the matter of a few months. This little soul barely knows how to whisper, and talks in full sentences at the top of his lungs most of the time. He is fiery and bold as well as incredibly sensitive; He understands and considers the emotions of those around him and generally reacts based on those, too. He talks in the third person all day, and it just might be my favorite thing ever, ever.
Preschool starts next week for him. I’m trying to manage my emotions about that, but given my hormone levels that isn’t going to be easy.
I wanted to try to capture them right now, just before they launch fully into their new grades and right before we become a family of 6… It’s sort of like chasing a rainbow though. The color and light is there but I just can’t seem to catch it. These beautiful little people have taught me more about life than all 35 years I’ve spent on this planet, I’m just so grateful for that, and for them.