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Dearest Josiah,
I just started typing out that it’s your 5th birthday when I realized…Doh… it’s your 6th. And that’s sort of like what it’s like to be a Mom. Poof. Another year. You are six. It’s strange how you being six is different that your sister turning six. I thought she was so big when she turned six. You are still my little boy who calls me “MaMaaa” and nuzzles me with your cheek and your grin when I tell you “I love you.” The word “grin” was invented for your face. You are a grinner. And I am smiling at my computer screen just thinking about your face. You are exuberant, energetic, empathetic and endearing. And those are just the E words. Let’s try A’s. You are authentic, adorable, affectionate and amusing. Boisterous and often belligerent, blustery and bighearted. Comical and complex and creative. You get the idea. The alphabet cannot contain everything you are. Whatever I thought having a little boy would be, you have made it better. I can’t tell you how much I adore you and am enjoying watching you grow up.
This year you started Kindergarten. We expected a challenge with the all-day classroom setting, and it has been… a bit. Honestly, it’s gone better than I anticipated. You have a patient teacher who lets you be you as far as can be allowed, and avoids conflict when possible. That’s the thing with you. You are a mine field. There are a lot of battles. You have very strong opinions about things, and can be a bit inflexible by nature. So our job as parents and teachers is to stand our ground on the battlefields that matter, and to avoid the battlegrounds that don’t matter. We don’t need extra drama, little drama King. And we all want for you to be able to be you. But you also need to learn that the world doesn’t cater to all your big opinions. So, we’re working on it. And I’m really proud of you! You have come a long way. I have strong opinions too, and the big feelings too, and a mouth that gets away from me sometimes too, so I relate to you. We are learning to make good choices even when our feelings don’t line up. Because consequences are no fun! And we are learning every day that we are no alone in our struggles. Three verses have been guiding my conversations with you this year. Paraphrased they go something like this.
- Today is a New Day! “God’s mercies are new every morning!” (Lam 3:23)
- I can make Good Choices! “God’s power has given me everything I need for life and godliness!” (2 Pet 1:3)
- I have Jesus Super Powers! “I can do All things through Jesus who gives me strength! (Phil 4″3)
Sounds cheesy, but it was one of those things that came so easily to me, I know it was from the Lord. And I think it has helped you. You struggle with saying “I can’t” a lot. And you get caught up in past mistakes. So, it’s important for you to know that every day we start fresh, when we start it by placing ourselves in the Lord’s hands. He gives us the ability to make right choices and the power to carry them out. I’ve been reminding you that Jesus is always listening as well. “Help me, Jesus!” is a prayer I pray you learn to pray in those frustrating moments where your will hits the brick wall of authority.
You have learned so much even in these first few months of Kindergarten. Your letter and number recognition was spotty when you started. You recognize and can write most of them now. You also are voluntarily beginning to sound words out. Your curiosity has definitely been piqued! You can read the simple three letter words that make sense now, and you get super excited when you get one right. “I can read!” You exclaim. That is a wonderful kind of joy for you and me both.
One cute story from your Kindergarten adventures this year begins with a playground collision and a bloody nose. One of the office ladies, called me to tell me that, when she was interviewing you in order to check for a concussion, she first asked, “What is your sister’s name?” to which you replied, “Sissy.” Of course. That’s the only thing you call her. Super cute. You often have a bruise in the middle of your forehead. You tend to lead with your noggin.
You continue to love your little trinkets. I will never admit this to you now, but some day you will realize how often I tidy up your junk drawer (relocating unnecessaries to their new home in the garbage can) when you’re not looking. If I let you, your room would be overflowing with your junk treasures. You put them under your bed, dresser and bookcase, inside your treasure boxes, tupperwares and coin purses, and cases of all kinds. You overflow your junk drawer. Every surface of your room would be covered in Legos and paperclips, bits of string and rubber bands, if I did not regularly intervene. You haven’t caught on yet, so I must do a good job of allowing you to keep the things that currently most important. I love seeing the things you build (but I also hate clutter, so we compromise.) Usually when I clean out your drawer, you’ll discover something you thought you lost hidden at the bottom and be thrilled at the reacquaintance. For several months now you have been clipping various treasures to your pants. Every pair of pants and shorts you wear has to have belt loops. No one in your life wears a wallet chain or anything, so I’m not even sure where you got the idea, but you will scarcely leave the house without your man jewelry danging from your waist. It’s pretty cute. Right now, you have a shark tooth, a Legoland key chain, a paperclip, a random string, and a few other things attached to your hip. You always jingle a bit when you walk. You like bracelets and necklaces (especially anything with moving parts like lockets) and pins of all kinds. I frequently find odd things at the bottom of the washing machine when I do laundry because pockets are for filling with treasures.
You are very good at disarming situations with humor. It’s is both endearing and exasperating. You smile at everybody. Your moods tend to change at time lapse pace. You can be mad and laughing in the same breath.
You are also really into Nerf guns right now. Daddy, who loves guns, thinks it awesome and has purchased a bunch of army men for you to play with that you will be unwrapping this Christmas. I am letting it go. Daddy played G.I. Joe his whole childhood and respects guns and has a healthy respect for war, so I guess you’ll be fine. I’m glad you’ll have something to share with Daddy when you’re a bit older.
You continue to be a challenge to feed. You are a little bean pole, no matter how much I try to stuff your face with healthy, fattening foods. But we had one major victory. I’ve been ordering cheeseless pizza for you for years. You refuse to eat melted cheese on anything, ever. But I’ve also been telling you regularly that our tastes change as we get older and that, “maybe when you’re 6, you’ll like cheese pizza.” Well, we convinced newly-six you to give it a go, and what do you know? You love it! Cheese pizza is back on the menu. A small, huge thing for this Momma. Since then, I have cautiously attempted melty cheese in a few other things, with limited success. Grilled cheese was still a no go, but sneaking a little bit of cheese in egg burritos seemed to be okay. And you are regularly putting Parmesan on your pasta now. Baby steps. I have begun to tell you that seven might be the age when potatoes become delicious.
I am doing my best to glory in these little kid days with you. You have experimented with washing your own hair a few times, but still want me to do it most of the time. You still mess up words in adorable ways (“Oosiversal Studios” is your favorite place), and you we still blow and catch each other’s kisses every night before I walk out your bedroom door. Little you is wonderful. I know big you will be wonderful too.
What a joy it is to get to be your Mom. I love you so much, Bear. Happy Birthday, kid.
