How did we get here? A Summer full of change winds down as a Fall full of change gears up, and the panic inside of me wells.
No ordinary “back to (pre) school”. This is the big leagues. In a week , I’m putting my son on a yellow bus and sending him into the world and on the inside, I’m dying a little every hour that passes.
There’s been no shortage of tears, no shortage of terror and panic and tears again. The world is about to get ahold of one of my most beloved and prized treasures and I know without a shadow of a doubt, the world doesn’t always treasure treasures. The other day, he said to me (about something, I can’t remember what), “it’s all good, mom. I got this”….so he’s probably ready. While I am not. My control over his exposure is about to be ripped away and I have no choice but to trust God.
I’m rushing to educate him on pokemon and doing wiki searches on minecraft so that my overprotectiveness so far won’t be AS evident. There’s no cliff’s notes on the core interests of 6 year old boys. I just want him to be himself. I just want him to be accepted. I want both for him. I feel utterly bipolar.
I can only say 90% I’ve done my best/10% I’ve really bombed. And I hope and pray it’s enough that he’ll be himself and make good choices and tell the truth and be a good friend.
But if I’m projecting all my fears, and completely crazy on the inside, the outside is holding strong. Thank God that somehow, for the first time in my time as a mom, I swear I’m playing it cool…and about something apocalyptic to my world. It’s about to get rocked. School House Rocked.
from cheeky to frumpy in 4 years flat 
We just downloaded MineCraft on Chad’s phone to try to figure it out. We are in the exact same space. Chad says I am not allowed to join Lou for lunch, no matter how much I want to. I can ride bikes with him to school and then I MUST leave. It hurts my heart and I am so scared for him. He has no fear – he’s pumped for recess. I’ve organized lunches with parents with children that I know will be in his class so he’ll go in having buddies – I’ve bought him cool, new shoes, I’ve done all I can. Now I must breathe and let his wings unfold – just a little bit. I get a lump in my throat thinking about not having my buddy at my side all day. Often he’s a voice of reason, a reason to relax a little bit and a reason to see what’s worth the worries in life. I am sad to see him grow up but excited at what he can offer the world. Anyway, have no doubt I will be at the bike rack 10 minutes early to pick him up and my name will be first on the classroom volunteer list (really so I can spy).