kismet art

Twelve

 
Dear Ben,

Your last birthday before you become a teen is here and I truly do not understand how this has happened.

OK, I know how it happened but it is so very hard for me to grasp how quickly time is passing.  

Gone are Thomas the Tank Engine, Bob the Builder, stuffed animals, and Duplos, but thankfully, not Legos.

Now there is homework everyday instead of extra playtime, chapter books instead of picture books, "real" movies instead of cartoons, board games or the Wii instead of peek-a-boo. 

Friday night I dropped you off at your first school dance and got almost as teary as I did your first day of kindergarten, and like that day I hid those "happy" tears until I drove away.  Where you once needed to be walked into a classroom holding my hand I now get to watch you walk up to a huge building alone or with friends without a look back (and yes I am there watching but glad that you feel confident and comfortable). 

Seemingly overnight you have your own sense of style, a willingness to try new things, more patience for your sister, you offer your help without being asked, a dry wit, and an affinity for fake moustaches, fedoras, and accents.

Things that have not changed- your sweet nature, your love of drawing and building, your super-awesome dance moves, your ability to make Emma laugh harder and louder than anyone else, your love of learning new things, your group of friends- most of whom you met in kindergarten, your love of observing and being in the natural world, your quiet side (until someone gets to know you), the way you contemplate what you are going to say (aka the long pause) before you say it, the fact that you still hang out in the playhouse, and that you give great hugs.

Some of my favorite time with you is spent when I take you to and from school or the library- just the two of us in the car getting a few moments to talk about anything.  Or the nights before bed when instead of reading you just want one of us in there with you to talk with or to just be in close proximity to.

I love that you still say "I love you" to each of us every day.

I am just so very proud of the young man that you are becoming and glad that you are not so big yet that I can't see just a bit of that little boy that you used to be in some of the things you do.

Happy 12th birthday Ben.  May this year be even better than the last.

Love,

Mom

And now you are 11

Ben, age 1.

Dear Ben,

As I sit here writing this note to you I keep thinking of how so very many things change in eleven years.

Where you were once just a baby, so small, relying on us for every need you are now a boy, a pre-teen, someone more than capable of doing it all (but I still love the things you need me to do and the fact that you ask me for help when you need it.)

Just eleven short years ago your day was an alternating pattern of sleeping and eating (well, the eating part you had down, the sleeping, not so much), you now walk and talk and dress yourself and put your own laundry away and unload the dishwasher and build things and so much more.  

You make your own lunch, you make friends, you make jokes, you make plans, you make messes (ok, some things don't change that much.)

You have a sister (who adores you.)  And I love to hear the two of you laugh and talk when you play together. And even when you don't get along (and there is a distinct lack of laughter) you tend to work things out and play together again like nothing happened. 

You are kind and silly and compassionate and serious and fun.

You are an amazing Lego builder (now go put some of them away before I step on them, barefoot.) 

Sometimes I walk out into the kitchen in the morning and see you there and I just stop and wonder how it is that you seemingly grew another inch overnight.

I am so proud of how well you are doing in school and how much you love to read.

I love that you still let Dad read to you every night (I know you love this too, but you may never know how much your dad loves this.)

I love to read your "Human Beans" comics and the stories you write.

I love to hear (after we pry it out of you) what you are working on at school, who your friends are, what you did today.

You are my reminder to slow down, to savor the moment, to write it down, to take a photo, to make a memory.

Ben, I love you on today, your birthday, and every day.

And I'm so glad that I get to be your mom. Ben, age 11.

TEN

A look at you, in photos, from birth to age 10, and a letter from your mom.

Dear Ben,

I truly feel as though it was only yesterday that I was first holding you in my arms, not ten years ago. That day is one of my most beautiful and vivid memories, bringing another person into the world is an amazing, life-changing event, and meeting you for the first time has changed my life for the better in so many ways.

As a child I loved my family, books, music, dolls, riding my bike, and playing with my friends.  From an early age I was drawn to playing "mom", at parties I would round up all the children younger than me and play games, read, or just take care of them.  As I grew older my loves turned to things like going to dances, participating in school activities, spending more time with my friends, and of course, boys, and during that time my thoughts of becoming a mom were put away.  Until I met your dad.  Between the time we met, became friends, dated, then married, I knew that I had found the person that I wanted to have my family with.  And just a few short years after we wed you came along and made me a mom.

Because of you I realize the advice I was given by other moms before you were born, like the many moms who would tell me that time flies by in a blink of an eye, or the mom who said you can never hold your baby too much because one day they will be too big to hold, or the mom who told me how she couldn't believe how much love her heart could hold until she held her firstborn in her arms, were not just words but the honest truth.  That sleep would become a precious commodity.  That while your heart grows so does your passion for protecting your child from the smallest to the biggest of harms and heartbreaks. That your heart also learns that you can't protect your child from everything, but that your can be there for them, to wipe away their tears, offer your ear, and an open heart so that they know they can talk to you about the bad as well as the good. That your house will never be really clean. That each stage in your child's development brings something even better than the last. Did I mention that sleep deprivation thing?  I can't remember, I haven't slept much in the past ten years.

Ben, you bring so much joy to our family with your funny jokes, your shy smile, your daily hugs, your capacity to love our family, including your little sister, especially when what she is doing really irritates you, your passion for reading and learning, your Lego creations, your infectious laugh, your "Human Beans" comic strips, and your easy going nature.

And on today, your 10th birthday, while you are making a wish as you blow out the candles on your cake, I will be making a wish in my heart too, a wish for you to continue to grow and change and love and learn, to find what makes you happy and passionate so that you can live your life to the fullest.

Oh, and that every once in awhile you will pick up your phone and call your mom.

Happy Birthday Ben.

Love,

Mom

Time Flies

 The time from Kindergarten to 4th grade has flown by in what feels like a matter of days.  So many changes this year, new school, new teachers, new friends, new routines, but thank goodness for that same happy grin.  I've been up since 4:30 a.m., my mind unable to stop thinking about this new adventure we all start today, wishing it was with the same openness that Ben feels.  Thankful that I'm not alone feeling this way.  Thankful that so many people are working together to make this a great year.  And most of all thankful that the 4th grader let his mom and dad walk him to school today. I know those days are numbered and will take each and every one of them and hold them in my heart like a gift.

"Don't Cry Because It's Over, Smile Because it Happened"- Dr. Seuss

  Ben's last day of school is today, and like each year before it, from Kindergarten until now, the end of his third grade year, I feel the melancholy that one feels when something ends, a longing to capture back a bit of time that you know won't come again.

But today is not a typical last day of school because our beloved Crest Drive Elementary, at the edge of the city, nestled within this idyllic, natural setting, where on our morning drive we could often see deer and hear the song of more than a dozen different species of birds, will be closed up with no immediate plans for future occupants.

I mourn the closure of his school as deeply as the loss of someone I love, for it indeed is a permanent loss.

Our amazing teachers (many of whom are transitioning on to Adams Elementary), principal, and support staff will be spread out across Eugene.  A close-knit community dissolved. 

There has been so much talk, and even a little literature, on how best to "speak to our children about this closure".  About holding our heads high, keeping our words kind and upbeat to make this time easier for them.  And as much as I have tried to take some of that to heart I have also spoken with Ben frankly about my disappointment in our current school superintendent, our school board, and their decision to close his school.  I have let him see me cry and be angry about this closure.  I have listened to his sadness at leaving the only school he's ever known and encouraged his excitement that he will be part of a new school community in the fall.  I've reminded him that although many of his closest friends will not be going with him that those friendships don't have to end.

And today, even though our time at Crest Drive is over, and our wonderful school is closing its doors for the last time, I am trying to hold in my heart the positives.

That my son learned to read at Crest, opening the door to a lifetime love of books.

That my son practiced kindness and respect on a daily basis, something that is reinforced by staff and his peers.

That my son has been taught by so many amazing things (math, art, science, music, social studies, p.e., reading, writing, and more) by a talented, loving staff.

That my son has come out of his shell and tried new things and had so many different, fun experiences.

Thank you is not enough but it is all I have today.

And even though I will be one of the many shedding tears today I will try to hold these words in my heart:

"Don't Cry Because It's Over, Smile Because it Happened"- Dr. Seuss

Sprinkles

 Why is it that a liberal shake from a jar full of sprinkles can brighten just about anyone's day?

May the 4th Be With You

 Stop what you are doing and say this phrase out loud: "May the 4th Be With You."

May 4th has become almost as exciting a day around here as Christmas morning- thanks to those marketing geniuses over at Lego and the people who take time to make Lego Star Wars stop motion videos (and for those of you who are not Star Wars fans just stop reading this here the rest of this post will sound like gibberish to you.)  

Ben and Dave pretty much live and breathe Star Wars/ Clone Wars Legos/ Books/ Shows-Movies-Games. They know to the day when something new related to Star Wars is being released.  They save their money to pool together for big ticket items.  They pour over the newest catalogue.  And best of all, when Lego doesn't create a set for a particular Star Wars scene the two of them make their own from parts.  I love that their love of Star Wars gives them a common bond, something that they can have endless conversations about and that they have spent hours of time together, working and playing together. 

And for a real treat on this May the 4th I recommend watching this video: http://youbentmywookie.com/entertainment/lego-celebrates-may-the-4th-with-the-fastest-and-funniest-lego-star-wars-story-ever-toldthe-prequel-12368

Spring is Only 3 Weeks Away

So do you think it is ok for me to get rid of the graham cracker house from Christmas?

(And for the record I didn't even taste test any of the candy before it went into the trash can.)

The Robe

The Robe.  A present from Grandma and Papa this past Christmas in Ben's favorite color, blue.  The Robe is warm and cozy and made of the softest fleece.  Every morning Ben comes down the hall wearing the Robe.  The Robe goes over his clothes as soon as he returns home from school.  With temperatures dipping into the 20's at night Ben has been wearing the Robe over his pajamas at night.

And apparently the Robe even takes a little of the sting out of working on his homework, too.

Have Yourself A Merry Lego Christmas, December Daily, Day 20