day 3 of kindergarten.

me: "welp. how was day 3 of kindergarten? tell me the highs and lows. tell me everything. i want to hear all of it."

pratt: "best day yet. loved it all. every minute of it. no p.a. (p.e) today, that's tomorrow. and i didn't miss you once, momma. didn't even think about you one, single time. NOT ONE SINGLE TIME, MOMMA.

okay.

1. you guys can all STOP praying for pratt. because obviously the kid is doing just dandy in there.

2. i mean, what the what people. by middle school he won't even know my name.

3. luckily, max is still clinging to me like a spider monkey. so there's that.

dear pratt.

dear pratt,

in two days you will start kindergarten.

where has the time gone? what in the world did we do for 5 years and 11 months?

i shall start at the beginning.

you arrived.  your lungs were hurt so you stayed in the hospital a week without me.  your daddy cried because we had to leave you there.  your pop pop cried mid-prayer the first night we came home without you.  finally you came home.  ace sniffed you.  decided he loved you.  you were happy.  i was not.  i cried all.the.time.  i was scared and in a town where i knew NOT A SINGLE PERSON.  dad opened a brand new office.  and left crazy at home to be with you.  cookie left me here alone too.  i cried more.  and more.  3 months later, you slept all night long.  you napped like a champ.

i was finally better.
we found a church.
we made friends.

you and i became best pals.
i learned how to grocery shop with a baby.  how to target shop with a baby.

i learned how to drive to camden with a baby.
i was comfortable with you wherever life would take us.
i HAD this.

you turned one.  you were healthy.  and happy.  and smart.  so smart.
you began to walk.  cautious, but you were doing it.
we went to the park.  daddy would meet us on his lunch break.  you would slide and giggle and ask for more.

we took our first trip to the pumpkin patch.  you were a hippo for halloween.  we called you pratt-opotamus.  you helped daddy carve the pumpkin.  you helped me make our first chocolate chip pumpkin muffins.  you cracked your first egg.

you pooped in the bathtub for the first time.

you helped me with laundry.  you would pull all the clothes out of the dryer and scoot them to my room so we could fold them and watch cartoons.

christmas came and you were given 2857234987349734972 toys that year.  you were officially spoiled.

mr. rayper came and cut down a bunch of trees in the backyard and pulled them out and loaded them up with his mules.  you stood out there all day to watch.  you fell in love with all of it.  you and daddy went on a small roadtrip to get a four wheeler.  you stopped in hope to eat at mcdonalds.  just you and daddy.  you had a happy meal.  chicken nuggets.  you received and fell in love with your first pair of boots. from pops.  you refused to take them off.

you made your first snowball.  and loved being outside in the cold.  we lured you back in with hot chocolate.  you ate only the marshmallows.

you and daddy started setting up rabbit traps for the bunny in our front yard.
we saw the wizard of oz at robinson theater.  you lasted until intermission.
you dumped an entire container of baby powder on the wood floors. then you helped me clean it up.  it took like 4 hours.

we went to the beach.  you were the only child.  liza and max weren't born yet.  and you loved it.  sugar and ty ty spoiled you so much.  the pratt reunion was held in eureka springs.  you loved everyone.  and they all loved you.

you had started talking and you never stopped.

you turned 2.  you potty trained 10 days later.  you had ONE accident.  it was in november.  we were on our way to thanksgiving in camden.  you never slept in pull-ups.  you just got it.  at a very early age.  it wasn't me.  or anything i did.  it was all you.

i found out i was pregnant.  we found out it was a little boy.

you were thrilled.  so excited.

max was born.  i lost my mind.  he screamed his face off for like 124 days.  i lost my mind some more.  you never complained.  you only thumped him on the head one time.  and when i asked you why you said, "because he just fries, momma.  all the time.  fry fry fry.  and i can't take it, momma."

i didn't blame you.  i couldn't either.  so i don't even remember scolding you.

i remember coming home at one point from getting my haircut.  you and daddy were at the kitchen table.  you had on earmuffs.  you were eating cereal.  i could hear max screaming but didn't know where he was.  turns out, you two had put him in the front room because you didn't want to listen to the screams.  daddy said he couldn't do it.  he needed to leave.  i wanted to punch daddy in the throat because I DID IT EVERY SINGLE DAY.  but i didn't.  you're welcome.

four months later max was better.  so was i.

max stopped screaming and you were the best brother to him.  you would hold his pacifier in his mouth for him.  you would get me bottles.  you would help change his diapers.

you took a trip to new orleans with cookie and sugar.

you turned 3.  you got a fish.  it died.  you got another fish.  it died too.  

you found a lizard.  and a turtle.  and a frog.  we had so many animals in our house.  

life at this point was easy and good.  you had friends.  we had play dates.  we went to the library.  we went swimming.

we went to the bahamas with andy and clara and anderson.  you have claimed it was the best trip ever.  i agree.  you kissed a dolphin.  it was awesome.

you turned 4.  you started preschool.  you loved every single minute of it.
you turned 5.  started your second year of preschool.

you spend the night with pops and jackie.
went on the disney cruise with cookie, denise, elaine and kendall.
went to st. louis with nana.
you are and always have been a world traveler.  like a good one.

you graduated preschool.  i cried.
you registered for kindergarten.  i cried more.

you had open house for kindergarten.

here we are.

in the beginning, life seemed to drag on.
recently, it has seemed to fly by.

days can be long...but the years seem so short.  as i've said before, i was there for all of it.  but i couldn't have gotten through the first four months of max's life without you.  you were my friend when i was lonely. you made me laugh when i needed it the most.

and in the days following max's diagnosis, you were the one that kept me going.  i would randomly ask you if you thought max would be okay...if he would ever talk.  and you would always say, "of course momma.  why wouldn't he?"

your innocence was good for my soul.  your belief in the good got me through the hard days.

there are times when you leave me...for school or a fishing trip with daddy, when i just want to hold you in my arms and never let go.

but i know that's not fair.  i know that's keeping you from the world. and i want you to embrace this place.  i want you to live life to the fullest.  i want you to meet as many people as you can.  i want you to touch as many lives as possible.  i know in my heart that you are a difference maker.

i also know that you are one of the most sensitive people i have ever met.

and so you will, at some point, realize that the world is a sad, depressing place.

and while you will have this overwhelming desire to fix it, and make it better, please remember that you can only control yourself.  and as much as you will want to control other aspects of life, you simply cannot.

so just do your part.  be kind.  put others first.  love your neighbor.  see the beauty in the small things.  be good.

it is there you will find happiness.

i love you more than you love wild kratts.  more than you love betty crocker blueberry muffins.  more than you loved Putra from the disney cruise.

i cannot wait to watch you grow and blossom and make so many people happy this year.

i love you pratt.
so, so much.
xoxo, momma.

pratt's open house.

well.  pratt had open house last night.  katie kept max so we could let the whole thing really be about pratt.  so glad we did that.  

it started in the cafeteria where the principal introduced herself and everyone else.  we were told all about the new security system they have in place.  and everything else of importance.  

pratt was so excited he couldn't contain it.  about every 3 minutes he would whisper, "momma! when do i get to meet my teacher?!"

finally we did.  we went to the classroom.  it's perfect.  she's perfect.  lyla and colson are both in his class.  it's just all perfect.  i worried for a solid year for NO reason.  i always do that.  you'd think by now i would be over it.  i'm not.  

there was a composition book with HIS NAME ON IT AS IF HE IS GOING TO WRITE OR SOMETHING.

WHEN DID HE GET TO BE SO OLD!?  

he wanted to wear his tuxedo.  but i talked him down to only a bowtie.  

he noticed all the centers/stations/etc.  he made himself right at home.  he literally looked around everything.  flipped through books.  just totally fit in.  and loved it.  

right before we left, he got to really visit with his teacher.  you guys.  he went right up to her and threw his arm around her like they were long lost buddies.  she smiled like she knew him.  and all my worry flew out the window.

she's a kindergarten teacher for heavens sake.  she doesn't do this because she makes good money doing it.  she does it because she loves kids.  and loves to teach.

no more worry.  i probably won't even cry on his first day.  bahahahaaaaa. sike.

when in doubt...

yesterday clint and i went to max's preschool open house.

there.
i said it.
it's for real now.

let me say something else that will MAKE YOU CRY.

it's full time.
like 8 to 3 pm.  monday through friday.
ALL YEAR LONG.
with no summer break.

take a little time to compose yourself.

yes, people.  he's 3.  he is 3 years and 2 months.

my baby is about to leave me for basically college and i can't do anything about it.

i tried it all.

i prayed that there wouldn't be room.
all of a sudden, out of nowhere, there was a magical #13 spot.  as in for years there had only been 12 kids in this class.  and then bam.  out of nowhere (kidding...i know where), they opened up a 13th spot. and max got it.  lucky number 13.  born on the 13th.

i prayed everyone would tell me that was too much.  that i should hold him home.  just take him to speech therapy.  NOT THE ALL DAY PRESCHOOL STUFF.
nope.  everyone (including his therapist who i trust with everything) said send him.  he will flourish.  that's what they said.  i'm holding them to it.  those meanies.  i don't think they realize mom is about to lose her mind, y'all.

so it's done.  he's on the list.  his teacher knew who clint and i were.
oh! you're max's parents!!! yes! he's been down here all ready.  for circle time.  he's made friends.  he will be great.  

me: i need you to understand that his apraxia is severe. (this is hilarious because she already knows this.  he's been in therapy here for 9 months.  and she has read the report.  she has seen him.  heard him.  she knows.  but none the less, i'm crazy).  like he refuses to try sometimes.  i don't know if you understand how much he doesn't say.  

her: yes. i know.  he will do so well in here.  he will hear all the hyper-verbal kids.  but he won't be alone because there are lots of other kids with apraxia in here.  i want you to video him now.  because a year from now, you won't believe the progress he has made.  

that's when i grabbed her arm. and looked at her.  and tears sprung to my eyes.

she's a mom too.  and so i know she knew what i meant with that touch.

she knew i wanted her to know that i love her.  without ever really knowing her.  i wanted to thank her for loving him already.  for being patient with him.  for pushing him when it's necessary.  for teaching him right from wrong.  for teaching him to write his name.  his colors.  his alphabet.  his shapes.

i wanted to hug her for being a teacher.  for making a difference in his life...and the life of so many others.  i wanted to thank her for somehow making her life work on a measly salary that should be 10 times what i'm sure she is paid.

i wanted to tell her i would pray for her every single day. that i would thank God for her heart.  and her love.  and her understanding.

but i didn't.  instead, i just squeezed her arm.  and smiled.  and she smiled right back.

because i think she got it.
i know she got it.

so on august 18th, at 8 am, max will start preschool.

and on august 18th at 8 am, pratt will start kindergarten.

did you get that?

they BOTH START ON THE SAME DAY AT THE SAME TIME IN TOTALLY DIFFERENT TOWNS.

this means that i can't physically be with both boys on their first day.

i don't even know you guys.  i just don't even know.

but it's a total first world problem.  and i do know that.  and so i'll get over it.  hopefully it won't be the main reason they have to go to therapy in the future.

for the past two weeks, every night when i go to sleep, i replay this scene over and over in my mind.

it's me and clint.  in our driveway.  i'm pregnant.  maybe 10 weeks pregnant.  with pratt.

and we are discussing what we will do when i have the baby.  will i work?  will i continue going to school for my phd?  what will my plans be?

i was terrified to tell him that i wanted to stay home.  i was so scared he would tell me we couldn't afford it.

but he didn't.  i can't remember exactly what was said.  but i told him i wanted to stay home.  and be with them every step of the way.  that i would work when they started school.  but until then, i would be home with them.

he agreed.  but the more i thought about it, the more i worried.  was that the right decision?  should i work?  should i continue school?  did i really want my identity to be sort of....lost?  and tied into something else?  someone else?

so i reached out to someone.  kathy howard.  she is the mother of a good friend of mine.  she was the first person to tell me that babies don't keep.  and that time goes by so fast.  and that there will always be a job.  but that children will grow up.  and you'll regret not staying home IF YOU HAVE THAT OPTION.  because listen, i know not everyone does.  i also know that not everyone wants to.

and i don't know if kathy realized it, but she quoted anna quindlen,

when in doubt, choose the kids.  there will be plenty of time later to choose work.

but me, i wasn't sure what i wanted to do.

and no one would help me.  i wanted clint to just decide for me.  but he knew better.

so i asked him if i could stay home.  if that would work.  financially.  and he said it would.  that we might have to cut back and go without certain "luxuries", but that we could do it.

and he was right.

i have everything i've ever wanted.  i've never felt like i had to go without anything.  in fact, i'm spoiled.  i have too much.  but don't we all.  if you're reading this, you probably have too much too.

and so as i look back over the course of the last 6 years, i realize that i made the right choice.  the best choice.  i realize that for once in my life, i actually made a good decision.  and i did it on my own.  i had help.  but in the end, i was the one who stood up and said what i meant.  and meant what i said.

and i haven't ever quit.

i have been on duty every single day for almost 6 years.  6 years in september.  i have been the mom.  the only mom these boys have ever known.

i've never put them off on anyone else.  i've never run away.  i've never quit.

i'm proud of myself for that.  because there were times when i might have wanted to.  times when i was depressed.  times when the colic was almost too much.  that time when pratt hurled a foam block at my head in the library in front of god and everyone.

but i chose the kids.  and i don't have a single regret.

thank you clint for working your butt off for us.  thank you for making it possible for me to stay home and still have everything i could ever possibly want.

i may be the person the kids run to when they are hurt, but you are the glue that holds this all together.  you are the rock.  and the leader.

but mostly, mostly you are the love of my life.
thank you for what you are.
and who you are.

i'll say it again, i don't know how i got you.  but i'm so thankful i did.

dear boys.

dear boys,

in 10 days, your momma will be 35 years old.

thirty five.  that's like halfway to seventy.  how did this happen so quickly?  why don't i feel 35?  oh wait.  i do.  sometimes when i catch a reflection of myself...and i see the crows feet.  or the age spots, i realize that i'm old.

but you know what old means?  old means i'm still here.

old means i'm healthy.  and happy.  and crows feet means i've laughed a lot.  and age spots mean i've spent many a day in the warmth of the sunshine.

and so i'll take it.

i think my 30s have been the best years so far.  i'm so much smarter this year than i was last year.  i started thinking the other day.  what would my advice be at 35 for you boys?  should something happen to me...and i never get to tell you...what would i most want you to know that i haven't already said?

so here it goes.

accept who you are.  accept who God made you to be.  like that person you see in the mirror.  because you know what?  THERE IS NO ONE ELSE LIKE YOU.  it's just you.  and if you can't be you, then who is supposed to do that?  this shouldn't be as hard for you two.  boys do this better than girls, i think.  i hope.

stop comparing yourself to others.  just don't.  there will always be someone smarter.  and faster.  and cooler.  someone with more money.  with more sense.  with more stuff.  but they aren't you.  so that's that.

take care of your body.  put sunscreen on.  like all over your face.  and on your neck.  and on your chest.  everywhere.  workout for your heart.  and for your happiness.  but not to look like someone else.  eat right because it makes you feel good.  don't starve yourself and don't take weird supplements.  those things haven't been studied enough.  eat real food.  just do.  make me happy and just do that.

speaking of food, learn to cook.  one day you'll probably be married and probably have kids...and you'll want to cook for them.  watch your mom, your dad.  or your grandmother.  or the cooking network.  whatever.  just learn to cook.  know how to make 10 things from scratch.  it will make your heart happy.

sleep as much as you can.  not only is it good for you, but there will be a time when you can't.  because of a job.  or school.  or a baby.  or because you are old and have prostate problems, have bladder problems or a bad back or whatever.  just sleep when you can.  you'll miss sleep one day.

don't give yourself away.  with every relationship that goes too far, a part of you is left behind.  keep yourself together.  remember that one day you'll meet someone you love more than you thought possible.  and not only will you love them, but they will love you.  and you will want to be the best you for them.  and if you've spent years changing and years breaking off pieces of yourself for other people (who aren't worth it), you'll be a shell of the person you were meant to be.  and that's no fun.  and that takes years of therapy to fix.  and that's expensive.

learn how to communicate with everyone you meet.  i honestly believe that 90 percent of problems arise because of a lack of communication.  so go to therapy.  talk to someone who isn't partial to your situation.

be honest.  always be honest.

don't cheat.  not on a test.  not on a girl.  not on a diet.  just don't.

put God first.  others second.  you come third.  that's it.  that's all.  it's an easy one (hahahahaaaa).

i hope i'm around when you boys turn 35.
i love you each to the moon and back.
so thankful you are mine.

xoxo,
mommy.

dear max.

my dear sweet baby max,

today at therapy, i noticed a mother i haven't seen before.

she was blonde.  and tall.  thin.  had a wonderful leather messenger bag.  was on a really thin ipad.  had some noonday jewelry.  a loose fitting shirt that looked designer-ish.

is it crazy that i noticed all that?  maybe.  but she just seemed so put together.  i think i notice that stuff because i always wish i looked that way.

no one will ever look at me and think, "wow. she's so put together."

they might think, "wow.  she is totally frazzled." or "oh, bless her.  look.  she's still in workout clothes at 2 pm."

or even, "oh look.  she has toilet paper coming out of her pants."

because yes, THAT has happened.  when i was 9 months pregnant.  it happened 2 days before i went into labor with pratt.  in front of MEN.  toilet paper i had USED.  toilet paper with PEE on it.

anyway.

okay.  about the time i sat down, a little boy started walking towards us in the gym.  i could see that he had braces on his little ankles.  he wasn't smiling.  he wasn't really focused on anything at all.  he was just looking ahead.  sort of whining.

his physical therapist opened the gym open door, and he attempted to step up over the metal part where the door latches.  he had trouble.  much like you have trouble.  it's your balance.  lifting one foot is hard when you feel like you'll fall over.

it took him a solid minute to get both feet over.

in these 60 seconds, i could see the face of his mom.

she was pained.
because she knew it was hard for him.
and she wanted more than anything for him to do it quickly.  and swiftly.
she worried he would fall.

mostly, she worried he might have trouble like this forever.

how do i know?
because i live it.

because i live that every.single.day of my life with you.

i hear other kids your age chatting away.  while my little boy is silent.
i see other kids running and skipping and hopping.  while my little boy stumbles.

as this mom walked out with her son, holding him, he was silent.  he made a gurgling sound to which she replied, "yes.  tree.  isn't that a pretty tree?"

and all i could think about was how i've been there.  tried to assume something you were thinking or saying or meaning.

tried to make a small gurgle into something meaningful.
tried to make something so small into something big.
make it a milestone.

make IT make ME feel better.

and that's when it hit me.  like a ton of bricks in the waiting room of therapy.

THIS ISN'T ABOUT ME.

this is about you.
this is about kids who are depending on us to give them what they need to succeed.

and while i have this tendency to push you...to hurry you over bumps in the road (both literal and figurative).  while i have this urge to rush you, you don't have that in you.

i'm reminded that there is something so good in allowing these children their own success on their own timeline.  not rushing things.  allowing them to move at their own pace.

may i always remember to stop and smell the roses.  to stop and admire a beetle on the ground.  to stop and instead of just walking over the speed bump...may i take it in as my own...and walk on top of it until i get to my destination.

max, thank you for teaching your old momma so many new things.  you are the light of my life.  you are the reason i worry. and the reason i pray.  you are the reason i am able to love so deeply.

i look forward to seeing you grow.  and talk.  and run.  and play.  and make friends.

xoxo,
momma.

max.

july 7, 2014.

max is talking.

A LOT.

he says full sentences.  he points and screams and laughs and jibber jabbers.

he is talking.  like full on talking.

i would give examples BUT THERE ARE JUST TOO MANY TO CITE.

that is all.  that's all i have to say.

speech therapy is working and we are the happiest family ever.

every child deserves a voice, y'all.