Last week, Daddy casually mentioned preschool and what we had planned for you, our three year old. Admittedly, I hadn't thought too much about it for whatever reason; we just wrapped up Sunday School and swimming lessons and are slowly starting to make plans for the summer. Preschool wasn't even on my horizon.
Well, it is now.
We enrolled you just this morning. You'll start September 12, and will go every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday from 9am-11:30am.
Daddy and I took you to tour preschool and meet the staff this morning. You were familiar with the location, because it's at our church where you already go to Sunday School. We watched all the three, four, and five year olds interact in their classrooms, as you quietly inspected everything. You marched right into one class and joined their circle time; you made an art project, and you joined the 5 year olds for snacks and cleaned up after yourself.
And made my heart burst with pride.
And, truthfully, fear.
You are so smart and so capable. You are so ready for preschool. Daddy remarked he wishes we could have enrolled you for five days a week. You are going to excel and love it the way you love everything: with everything you have. I absolutely adore the gusto you have for every aspect of life. I am not afraid you'll struggle, or be scared, or be frustrated, because I know you won't.
No, I am just afraid that this is yet another milestone we'll reach and cross off the list and all of a sudden, it will just be happening. Life is still moving along way too quickly for my liking. I try to soak up as much as I possibly can before it changes, but it's hard to get you, or life, to sit still long enough.
Because in a few months, I'll drop you off with your big backpack and the ability to write your name. You'll come home smelling like classrooms and brimming with stories of adventures, friendships, and little person growth.
Promise me this: at least one time this summer, just once, you'll fall asleep on my chest, your arms and legs splayed on either side of my body, your little cheek pressed tight against my skin, making us both sweat. I'll watch your face contort with the dreams in your head, and trace your hairline. I'll will you to stay this way for an hour, for a day, for an entire week.