Insert Sappy Celine Dion Song Here

For some unknown reason, Noah's been saying this last week that he wants to see the sunrise. He even asked me to wake him early to see it. As he was birthed into a family of night owls, I have a feeling he's in for a rude awakening in the morning. Tomorrow is the first day of school. The first day he'll likely see a sunrise. And, possibly, the last day he'll ever make that kind of crazy request again.

KINDERGARTEN.

Be still my heart.

How did we get here so fast?

How did we go from the sleep all day phase that Anniston's in at four weeks to a sixth birthday last Wednesday?

Sometimes I think the scenario in the movie Groundhog Day doesn't seem so bad. I could re-live these last six years over and over. They have had their low points, but those low points would be worth re-living the days of seeing his toothless first grin, watching his ape-like toddler walk, the way he called me, "Boppy" instead of "Mommy," the fact that he still loves to be tickled...yeah, these six years have been full of the highlights of my life.

We had a good last day of summer, all things considered. My cold sore bout has been a thorn in my flesh the last three weeks, but today was still special. Brian and Tyler spent a few hours at school while Brian got his classroom ready for tomorrow. Noah and Anniston stayed home with me. As Anniston sleeps all day, it gave Noah and me plenty of time to play. Which always magically makes him pleasant to be trapped in a house with. He is just a different kid when he's got all the attention and we're doing things he likes to do. We played dominoes, soccer, dodge ball and read three Berenstein Bear books. I don't always do a good job of treasuring how much he craves my attention, but I recognize what a gift it is that Noah is young enough that he wants to play with me. I know that won't always be the case.

Until today, Noah had displayed a surprising level of excitement over kindergarten. He loved seeing his classroom and finding his desk at Meet the Teacher. He smiled and made eye contact with his teacher as he shook her hand. And that is huge for my shy guy who still wouldn't greet his preschool teachers at the end of the school year in May. I think that one year of holding him back made a huge difference in his confidence and I'm grateful. His courage has given me courage. But, this afternoon, I think the anxiety began to set in. He began to say he was going back to preschool tomorrow. That he wanted me to come teach his fitness class as I have the last three years. He began to call tomorrow "the sad day."

I had hoped to read The Kissing Hand to him tonight. A friend was going to give me her copy and I found out a few days ago that it had been misplaced and was likely donated to the church preschool department. That's okay, some other child will be blessed by it. But, as the day was winding down, I found myself needing to mark the start of this new phase of life with some sort of special reading. As Lord of the Flies is neither topically fitting for this situation nor age appropriate, I settled for a made up story. I knew enough about the story of Chester the Raccoon and his fears about the first day of school that I decided to wing it. I had the boys' rapt attention as I went on about a raccoon and what I supposed his fears might be. In the middle, I nearly got too choked up to finish my made up story (how pathetic was that...didn't I know what was coming?) but was able to regain composure. We concluded with the promise that Daddy and I would plant kisses that stick on Noah's palms in the morning. Mine may turn out to be air kisses because kisses full of herpes viruses that stick are no bueno. He, of course, asked what happens if he opens his hands. Thank goodness Mommy and Daddy kisses are really, really sticky and they don't fall out. At least, that's what I told him. So, we'll see if holding our kisses to his cheeks helps him get through the day. I'm really looking forward to seeing the grin on his face when his whole family goes to pick him up.

Anyway, the boys are now tucked snug in their beds. Noah's favorite bedtime wish is, "Sleep tight, sweet dreams, don't let the big buggy bite you." And, if he hasn't said it to every member of the family, he tells one of us to pass it on. Tonight, it sounded especially sweet to me. Again because there will be a day that he no longer says that and this kindergarten thing is a great reminder of how fleeting time is.

So, here I am, on the eve of the first step to letting go.

My Dear Noah Jack,

I'm sitting here on the couch, wondering how we got here so soon. Tomorrow morning, I'll wake you up bright and early (maybe even dark and early) and get you ready for the first day of your school career. Preschool was practice, this is the real thing. Tomorrow begins a 17+ school career. But, really, it signals to me how one third of your time under my care has already flown by and how much faster these school years are going to go.

Tonight, you and Tyler played in the backyard while Daddy mowed. You ran in for a drink (cheeks all flushed, body all sweaty and heart all HAPPY) and I gave you a five minute warning. Just as I gave it, I realized that was the last one of the summer. Then I began to think that it was really the last one of your childhood, pre-school. From here on, you'll know what the end of summer brings. From now on, play days are no longer unlimited. You will not have seven days a week with which to play and be a kid.

Tonight, you are innocent to what it really means to be in school five days a week for seven hours each day. Tonight, you are still my baby but there is something new on the horizon. It is the last night before the lifelong process of letting go each parent faces. Tomorrow, August 23, marks the day that you step out into the world as your Daddy and I release you into God's care. Before we know it, we'll be making the drive to drop you off for our first night in your college dorm.

Shudder...

I think the weight of that is still hitting me. It's been so hectic the last few days with me fighting this cold sore outbreak from Hades and preparing for your combined birthday party with Tyler last night. This evening, I finally paused long enough to realize what it meant that I was making your lunch, setting out your clothes and writing you a love note for you to find in your lunch. I felt compelled to go into your room, where you and Tyler are soundly sleeping. While I normally pray in whatever position I'm in, tonight I felt the need to get on my knees as I faced your bed and prayed aloud. God had a Son, too, that He had to let go of so He could fulfill God's purpose for Him. Because He knows the love of a parent, I know God gets my Mommy heart. My heart tonight feels something like this...

Father, I thank you for the blessing of raising these three children. For the gift that you've given Brian and me in calling them ours. Father, I pray that our children are a blessing to You and that we are equipping them in the way that brings You glory. I pray for courage tomorrow, for Noah and us. I ask that You release him from any dread in the morning and allow him to fully enjoy his first day. Please help everything to go smoothly in the morning and let Him feel your peaceful presence throughout the day. I pray that he will be a blessing to You even as he is learning who You are. I pray that we have equipped him to be a blessing to those around him. I ask that You will help us release him and live with open fingers, knowing that these children are first Yours. You know how very much I long for these children to stay as they are; young and simple and free from the cares of the world. I want so much for them to stay this innocent and have such a funny way of looking at life. But, God, I know one of my most important roles as their Mother is letting them go, so help me do that. Let him be fully clothed in Your armor as he goes into the huge, wide world. Please help Noah to bless You in his mannerisms, his words and his thoughts. Father, I ask that you would bring people into his life that will strengthen his developing faith this next year. Please protect his heart and his mind as he goes into the world. Thank You for blessing my heart with his life.

P.S. Dear God, help me survive this letting go thing. And, also, sunrise.

In Jesus' name. Amen.

I love you with all my soul, Noah Jack. You'll always be my baby. I am so THANKFUL to be your Mommy!