Yes, yes he did. My little Max graduated from preschool today.
He's all ready for kindergarten now.
Why does this stuff keep happening?
Nobody even asked me if this was okay. Probably because they knew the answer would have been, "No!"
They just keep getting bigger and older. And my husband has cut me off from any future babies. Do you know what this means?
Soon, I am going to run out of babies.
I ruminate on this subject often enough that Max knows exactly what to say to make me feel better.
He tells me every time, "But I'll still be your baby! I'll always be your baby!"
His teachers adored him. And we both adored his teachers. They informed me that he is the class heartthrob, which isn't hard for me to imagine. When he feels like it, he really knows how to turn on the charm. He's been in the same class for the past year and a half, so it felt extra hard to say goodbye today.
I am nothing if not terribly sentimental. And you know what's been getting to me these past few months? This song. The lyrics apply to all of my children, but these lyrics also apply so specifically to my Max.
And I try real hard no to cry when I hear it on my way to Walmart.
Little Boy, when you speak
I can't help but kiss your cheeks
I love the way you grab my hands
and tell me all about your plans
Rockets high, comets fly
You and I could hitch a ride
And fly away to Neverland
And give our best to Peter Pan
When you reach for the stars
Don't forget who you are
And please don't turn around and grow up way to fast
See the sand in my grasp
From the first to the last
Every grain becomes a memory of the past
Oh, life's an hourglass
Life's an hour glass
Stories read, prayer is said
Close your eyes, Sleepyhead
While angels linger in your dreams
And hold you in their feathered wings
Just like you, I was small
Not that long ago at all
I wish you all the happiness
That God gives freely if you ask
When you reach for the stars
Don't forget who you are
And please don't turn around and grow up way to fast
See the sand in my grasp
From the first to the last
Every grain becomes a memory of the past
Oh, life's an hourglass
Life's an hour glass
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