Two

Beck,
Two years ago I met you and although I loved you completely, I did not know you. I could not have begun to guess who you would become or how you would change me both as a mother and as a human. You have brought more joy than you can imagine and you have filled a void I never even knew existed before you. You are strong-willed, obstinate, and feisty which, if describing anyone else, may seem like unfortunate descriptors, yet when describing you they fill me with great hope and comfort for these are the qualities of a leader. You are your own little person; you follow your heart and your desire. You are a risk-taker. You are adventurous and fearless and you give me a mini heart attack almost daily. You are a fighter and have been since before you even came into this world. You are kind, loving, and heart-achinlgy sweet and I know, without a doubt, that you were given to me to make me a better mom.You are so loved and so incredibly special.  Happy birthday, Baby Beck. "I love you" just doesn't seem like enough.

Four

Anderson,
Today you turn four years old. Four years of hugs, four years of laughs, four years of the brightest days. Your smile is contagious, your sweet giggle hysterical. No longer a toddler, but not quite a big boy you are trying to figure out this great big world. You are curious, passionate, and kind. You give the biggest hugs, the best kisses, and the coziest snuggles. You are a champion negotiator and a master dinosaur player. You are the most perfect you and my world is better because you are mine. I love you more than you'll ever know. Happy birthday, sweet boy.

Anderson | first day of preschool

Anderson, you started preschool today. Real preschool. Not just a one month trial run like we had in the summer where everyday was a glorified play date, but the real alphabet-learning, shape-analyzing, sit-in-a-circle-and-go-through-your-numbers kind and you were oh so excited. It's times like these where I truly feel the weight of being a working mom. Leaving for work this morning when it was still dark knowing that I would not be here to make you a special send-off breakfast or to walk you into your classroom made my heart a little heavy.

I am so proud of you, my little boy. To hear that you marched right into your class, bucket in hand, with confidence and a smile on your face made my morning a happy one. To hear you stood out as a leader made me swell with pride. Though I will likely miss many of your first days I understand that as special as those moments are for me, they are equally as special for Daddy to have with you boys. Every family makes little sacrifices for the sake of the greater good, that's just the way it has to be.

Even though I couldn't be there on the first real day of class I did take off on Monday to attend orientation, meet the other parents, and take your picture. Because as much as I love Daddy, I just knew that expecting him to take first day photos while getting you and your brother out the door was just too much pressure. I am just so happy to have the few he got of you in class, sitting right up in front. You are your mommy's boy. So sweet.

So here is to your first official year of school. May every day be as exciting as the first. I cannot wait to hang every piece of art and hear about every lesson taught. Oh, how I love you so.

Anderson | On your first day of preschool...

Anderson,
Today you started preschool. Preschool! OK, summer school preschool which is kind of like pre-preschool, but it is school, nonetheless! We have been so fortunate that you have always been home with Daddy or me, but you were so ready for something new, ready for change. It seems that no matter how creative we think we are, Daddy and I just can't compare to a room full of kids your own age. Eleven other kids, to be exact. With Baby Beck it is just so hard to keep you occupied and engaged every minute. I am constantly worrying about balancing structured play with learning time and just plain old fun. I guess it goes with the territory. I worry daily that I am not challenging your mind enough, not nurturing your interests enough, not socializing you enough. I am hoping that going to school a couple of days a week for a few hours will put my mind at ease at least just a bit.

I always hear people comment about how "advanced" or "bright" their children are at such a young age and I wonder exactly what composes their frame of reference. Are you advanced or gifted or maybe just plain smart? I don't know. You are 3. You are funny. And cute. And you sing and dance and keep me on my toes. But who is to say if you are going to excel academically or achieve greatness in the arts? Who knows if Mrs. Berry, your new teacher, will be the one who inspires something within you, who helps you uncover a passion or a talent that was buried deep inside?  As a teacher my only hope is that you enjoy school, that you see it as a place of opportunity. Whether you are at the top of your class or right there in the middle please, please just don't be at the bottom, what matters most is that the love and excitement you had this morning as you entered your classroom for the first time carries with you through the years; that the pride you have for your toilet paper roll fire cracker (first school art project ever! but why can't it be flat so that I can store it neatly? ughhh!) comes through in everything you do.

Some people act like preschool is no big deal and that it is just glorified play time. Maybe that is true. But to me it is the beginning of so much more. It is an opportunity to learn, to grow, and to make new friends. It is a place to learn how to be you when Mommy and Daddy are not there watching, a place to learn how to be a student, a place to learn to respect teachers.

You made me one proud mama today, Anderson. That toilet paper roll fire cracker holds a most special place in my heart for all that it represents. I love you, baby boy.

xo,
Mommy