he is my boy, sandwiched between two high-intensity girls.
he prioritizes peace over all things - handing over toys to his sisters, offering to read his book last, quietly disappearing in the midst of psychic storms until the thunderclouds pass.
he wrestles manfully with his emotions, pressing small fists into his eyes until he can control the tears.
he is the one still creeping into our room in the small hours, tucking his small body next to mine. when asked, all he'll say is 'i was a lil bit 'fraid. tha's all.'
he is a watcher, a studier, a builder.
he is profoundly shy - he never understands an adult has addressed him, assuming instead that they must be speaking to his charming older sister or his adorable younger one.
he is the one - my one - who owns my heart simply because he's never assumed it was his to own. (girls, when & if you ever read this, always know you own your own versions of my heart. this one, though, is all his.)
i don't buy the pomp & circumstance of preschool 'graduations' - not really. but this kid, the kid who has hated preschool almost every day he's gone for 2 years, who crowed 'I AM SO GLAD THIS IS THE LAST DAY OF PRESCHOOL!!!!!!!!!' - when i saw him walk with his class into the chapel, he gave me his shy smile and i knew.
i saw in an instant how he would go out into the world and charm it - make it his own. in his quiet way he will navigate the shoals of testosterone filled competition, he will be embarrassed by the attentions of girls, and someday he will show his teachers his bright quick wit.
in this small loving preschool graduation i saw all of his years ahead of him - i saw the teenager he will grow to be, the strong young man right there in his small five-year old body. in his small shy way, this was his Moment, whether he knew it or not. this was his moment to launch.
And I'm so proud I was there to see it.
love you, Larsie boy. may your future be as rich as your mommy's dreams.
