Wow! You’re six! Really!
Facebook does this thing with “memories” and it pops up with things that you’ve posted on the same day over the past years. My goodness, reading some of the funny things I would put on Facebook and the conversations I had with your surrogate Aunty… Well let’s just say we’ve been laughing at ourselves. A lot. Clearly, we had no idea what parenting would look like and just how easy our pre-kid lives were, filled with chats about shopping and going for swims and spas (we had fun!) and conversations about our ultrasounds.
I remember a few weeks before you were born, everyone had a panic because I was measuring small, and they thought there was something wrong with you. Oh did that scare me. And of course the sonographer commented that you were all out of proportion – what a great thing to say to a pregnant mother! But then I had a follow-up elsewhere and they told me you were perfect and I had nothing to worry about.
They were right. And wrong.
They were right, because to me, you are perfect. You’re not, of course, but I love you as you are and for who you are. Gentle, loving, encouraging, patient, careful, just.
They were wrong, because every mother is built to worry.
You’re half way through the second term of your kindy year at school. You’re doing so well. You’re learning to read. Nothing special about that, but it’s thrilling to hear you sound out and recognise words. You’re fitting in to school life like a puzzle piece. You’re making friends. You’re having a wonderful time.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry. What if you’re the one who gets picked on? Or what if you’re the one who does the picking? I know I need to relax and just let you be and I’m trying. I really am.
I hope that you’ll see that my words, though sometimes not “nice” (in your opinion) are filled with love, hope and a desire to mould you into a strong, courageous, loving man of God.
So, what about you?
You’re into Lego – in a big way. You love the Sydney Swans. You think you’re great at football and cricket, but you aren’t that good. You are really good at running and can run 5km in around 32 minutes consistently. You find it hard to accept direction when you think you know what you’re doing. You think fluffs are funny. They stink.
You love your sisters and play silly games with them. You know how to push Talbot’s buttons, but like every big brother, you’re fiercely protective of her. You need your space and time to yourself and you love routine and get annoyed when we change it by announcing things like, ‘we’re going for a walk this afternoon’.
You hate it when people don’t follow the rules. You love it when you get a sticker on your chart at school. You have learned Bible verses and 3-D shapes and you are coming in leaps and bounds in your reading. Your best friends are Josh and Jake and there’s a particular girl in class who has caught your eye. Her mum is lovely, so that’s ok.
You’ve lost your two front teeth at the bottom and the top ones are starting to get wobbly and pushed apart. You’re growing a molar in the top, left. You love your toothbrush and you’re a great flosser! You love to ‘check’ your hairdo. You’re 118cm tall. You still want to be a paeleontologist and you like going to the wildlife centres.
You like chocolate cake and hot milo but you don’t like cheese anymore except on pasta (this is a new revelation to me). You don’t like pumpkin or zucchini, though you do like pumpkin soup (go figure). You don’t like cinnamon, but you do like raisin toast and hot cross buns (again, weird).
Kiddo, you’re ‘hectic’ (thats your favourite word right now – you think it means cool). You are loved and you are special. You are one of a kind. Keep following your path. Don’t worry about what everyone else is doing. You can’t change them – but you can change yourself. Just be the best version of you that you can. We’ll try our hardest to help you do that.
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