I write. It’s what I do. So naturally as one of my babies heads off to kindergarten, I want to write a long letter to his teacher telling him all of the things that make my son such an amazing kid. I want to fill a page singing the praises of my kiddo. I want to tell his teacher all of the things that make him special, all of the things that bring out the sparkle in his eyes. I want to share his interests, his talents, his passions, and his hobbies. I want to tell his teacher all about the blessing that is my son.
Just as I was about to pour my heart and soul onto the computer screen, it hit me. Maybe his teacher will see a different child. Maybe he’ll see a different side, a different personality, a different blessing. Maybe he’ll see different strengths, and weaknesses, and abilities. Maybe he’ll see a different kid, one I haven’t seen yet. One he hasn’t become just yet. Maybe he’ll find new talents, new treasures, and new things I haven’t.
Maybe he’ll see him as the blessing he is, but in a unique and one-of-a-kind way.
I wanted to write a letter about my smart, caring, handsome, and energetic son, but I won’t. I will allow his teacher the opportunity to see him through his lens, with fresh eyes and an open heart. I will allow him to watch my son and decide on his own who he is and what he has inside of him. I will let his teacher treat him like a blank canvas and sprinkle his inspiration, knowledge and influence on him in his own special way. I will open myself up to the idea that the boy that walks into that kindergarten classroom might not be the boy that walks out. In fact, I hope at the end of the year a different, more confident, more knowledgeable boy walks out.
It’s hard trusting another soul to take care of your child. It’s hard letting a piece of your heart walk out the door, praying the world is kind to him. It’s hard watching your children grow up and lose their little. But it’s also beautiful and joyous and part of the plan.
This year, as my son heads off to kindergarten, I will watch from the sidelines. I will let him lead the way and show me what he’s made of. I will watch him head into his school career as an energetic and spunky 5-year-old and I will wait to see what kind of 6-year-old he’ll be when it’s over.