-- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Dear Carter Christopher,
Today, you need both hands of fingers to show me how old you are. It's not a rite of passage, but it sure does remind me how fast the years pass.
It is thrilling to watch you try new things: Fishing (you didn't wanna touch it).
Riding a jet ski (you warmed up to it).
A community kids' 100-yard dash (you didn't like people watching you).
Hiking (all things are possible with Goldfish).
In your class this year, we watched you become quite the lover of learning. Your capacity to absorb and retain facts, figures, and other obscure information surprises me in nearly every conversation. Dinosaurs, construction equipment, the solar system. All of it fascinates you. I hope you never feel ashamed about being smart. Your mind is a gift.
And another thing about that mind of yours: you talk a lot about the things you think about. It's possible your parents were punked when doctors raised concern about speech delays when you were two. Because these days, you can't stop commentating, asking questions, and telling pretty terrible knock-knock jokes. (I laugh at them anyway.)
You wrapped up preschool earlier this summer. I will never know why 4- and 5-year-olds are treated like PhD recipients, with the fanfare and caps and gowns, and I'm shocked they didn't hood you. But gracious, this photo melts me.
Your exuberance is stunning, and I savor it, because if I'm honest, when kids grow up, these moments are fewer and further between. I want to remember this innocence.
Your mom and dad have things they want to remember about this year, too:
I'd describe Carter's personality with these few words:
mom: Curious, smart, loving.
dad: Ultimate snuggler, inquisitive.
Carter is happiest when he ...
mom: Is riding his bike, swimming, or wrestling with his Dad. He also loves trips to science museums and aquariums.
dad: Is riding his bike or swimming in the pool.
Carter is not-so-charming when he ...
mom: Talks back or yells at me.
dad: Talks back and kicks or hits his brother.
My proudest moment as a parent this past year was ...
mom: Conquering swimming-related fear and seeing him become a kid who loves the pool again.
dad: Seeing Carter's resiliency. It was a tough year for us and for him. But he hung in and has really done a great job transitioning to another new place. He is excited about his new house, his new school, and is magically sleeping through the night (mostly).
One time this past year when I thought I was going to lose my mind was ...
mom: When I realized that he NEVER stops talking in the car and wants an answer to everything. ALL. THE. WORDS. ALL. THE. TIME. It is exhausting!
dad: The long trip back from Maine to Delaware. They did as well as could be expected, but there was a lot of talking, melting down, and unkind words from the backseat the last 2-3 hours of that trip.
Carter's best qualities are ...
mom: We are continually blown away by his mind. His memory is really incredible. He loves to know facts about all kinds of things, and because of that, we have all learned a lot over the past year about dinosaurs, sea creatures, bizarre animals, and outer space. We also are in awe of how kind and tender he is with small children. He loves to make them laugh and smile. And we love that he still LOVES to snuggle and be read to each night.
dad: His questioning mind, his smile, his gentleness.
My heart broke a little bit this past year when ...
mom: He began to realize how big the world was and that he is just a small part of it. He developed more fears of things. He began to suffer from separation anxiety. It was hard to see my previously brave boy struggle in a way he never had before.
dad: A few times (as I mentioned before, tough year). It was maybe midway through fellowship, and he finally broke down when I had to leave the house to go to work. He would not let me go, voicing that he didn't want me to leave, and crying uncontrollably. It was a breaking point, and he made it known. Next, we were discussing our move to Fort Mill, and he was upset and crying, then asked how long it would be before we would have to move again. Third, asking when he could see his friend, Mack, again after we moved. That hurt. We also got a tough diagnosis this year that was a gut punch. That hurt too.
I laugh out loud when Carter ...
mom: Laughs! He has a great laugh.
dad: Laughs really hard, attempts to tell jokes, and when Luke makes him laugh.
After his sixth birthday, I'm most looking forward to ...
mom: Seeing how he likes school and what new interests he develops.
dad: Seeing him start kindergarten and find kids that will be his friends for years.
Yes, Little Man, this year was trying at times.
But you need to know that Jesus never promised an easy road, so I imagine that every year from six until ninety-six will have its share of not-so-great.
It's why in my very first letter to you, even before you were born, I confessed to being afraid of the world you were coming into. It can be a scary place, and people can be unkind.
Tomorrow, in fact, you start kindergarten in a new city, and at a school new to you. It might be scary, and you will probably meet an unkind classmate (or two or ten).
Hard days are coming, whether in kindergarten or otherwise, and when they do, I hope you'll remember this year, and that despite the challenges and fears and anxieties, you've managed to laugh, snuggle, and show resiliency.
I hope you stay close to your family who loves you the most. I hope you find humor where you can, and laugh as often as you can. I hope you choose friends who will walk the hard roads with you. I hope you always go back to Truth to ground you, and not to changing circumstances.
And I hope you keep learning, because then you will know the value of bad times, and that even hidden in all the hard, there is goodness to be found.
Little Man, watching you grow up is one of our greatest joys. Happy Sixth.
