Here We Go

Dear Sammy,

Six. Really, six. That’s you. I can’t believe it either.

We’ve been celebrating your birthday for almost a month, with various family members here, a gaggle of friends there. But finally, today’s the day, and you can truly say, “I’m six!” without anyone putting an asterisk on that.

It also means that you’re an official school boy now. Sure, you could have been in kindergarten last year because of the stupid age cutoff 6 days away, but this is so much better. You got to spend the last year being a kid and going to preschool with kids and teachers you loved. And now, you’re ready for this challenge. Oh sure, I fret and worry and chew my fingernails about sending you into the deep recesses of a giant elementary school. Hey, I’m your mother. I get to. Try and stop me.

I hope all that concern takes a little of the stress away from you. Just have fun, buddy. And be respectful. And listen. And follow directions. But, most of all, have fun.

As I walked you across the gym to the rest of your class, a little girl caught sight of you and immediately began waving. That’s a good start, son.

I’d also like to thank you for the trooper you’ve been all summer, with so many trips up to the school for all sorts of testing. Most of that seemed like playtime to you, and I’m grateful for these educators for making it feel that way to you. You never balked or fussed about going; if anything, you weren’t too keen on my returning to pick you up so soon. Your enthusiastic participation allowed the good school folks to really see the total package of you and figure out exactly what you need in school to succeed. That’s a gift to yourself and to me.

You may look a whole lot like your dad, but when it comes to temperament, you’re my kid through and through. We both hate change, in that it’s a threat to things and activities we like and don’t want to move on to situations that might not measure up. Your defense is usually a very well executed tantrum, which I’m not fond of, but certainly understand. There are times I wish I could throw myself down and wail at the injustice of it all, too. But this time, I think I’m alone in feeling the tension of this transition. You are rolling with it, and it’s an awesome sight to behold.

School is only the first big thing to happen in the Year of Six, and I can’t wait to see what’s next. Just keep on with the random hugs and goofy fits of laughter.

Love,

Mom

Gotta have the birthday cupcakes at school.