Twas the Night Before Graduation
And all through the house, only one creature was stirring, the mother of the house.
My baby, my youngest cannot possibly be graduating from preschool tomorrow. It's not possible. If I could stand outstide and boycott this event, I would. But these blue eyes you see below would be so upset with me as he has been counting down the days, the minutes, the seconds for what seems like the entire year now.
Baxter, tonight I write to you, because Lord only knows that tomorrow night, when all is said and done, I can bet to say that we will all be crashing hard. But tonight, I've already checked on you both three times. I removed the Dr. Seuss ABC book and your ball and gloves from your hand, but you swore that you wouldn't get any bigger over night. I'm just checkin'.
Over the course of a week, I have written some of your "Baxterisms" in the journal above the refridgerator a number of times. You have been a riot with your one line wonders all week. You cannot wait to go to 'George Washington, DC' and stay in the 'show n tell.' But not with Emmie because "I told her that you told me that I can't get married just yet." And that "867-5309 is not really our 'address' we just tell people that we don't know that's where we live." I simply cannot get enough.
I apologize to your brother all the time. For not being "all-in" two years ago. When life seemed to be too much to enjoy these incredible moments. Trippy, I am so sorry. I would go back in a heart beat if I could. I would. I don't ever want to forget these moments.
For example. Tonight we did our thank you notes and gifts to our teachers. To see the differences in letters between two years and five short days, they were leaps and bounds. Baxter writing a I, shape of a heart, U and then his name in all caps, to Tripp being the perfectionist, in the most perfect handwriting, Thanking Mrs. Thompson for allowing him in her classroom and sharing her knowledge with him. Who are you?!? God I am so proud!
Tomorrow night, Baxter, I will watch you in action. I have already pinky sworn to you that I will find you before the ceremony and give you a hug and kiss before I sit down. It was the first request you had of me tonight. As Tripp asked you details of the graduation, you quickly shut him down and said, "Stop! Don't give it away! It's a seeeeeeeeeeeecret for Mommyyyyyyyy." I love how dramatic you are at times. Again, please don't every stop. Your teachers have told me already how much they are going to miss you and your eagerness to help them throughout the day. Two other mommies stopped me in the hallway this morning to inform me that their daughters are going to marry you. You will make one woman so very happy one day. For now, I am reaping all the benefits every single day!
You have set out your clothes for graduation. And your dog is ready to go by the door. The first person to sign is Gracie. After that, apparently we have to find Tripp in the school. We may need to make exceptions to Piss-Piss this go around. And we're calling him PP, FYI.
Tomorrow, please promise me you won't get upset when you see tears on my face. They will be the happy tears, my love. I had been warned these years would fly by and without my knowledge nor my permission, my preschool days are leaving on a jet plane.
A is for A, a, a, a, a, a, pple. B is for B, b, b, b, b, Baxter the graduate! Oh, and BBBBBBoys!
My baby, my youngest cannot possibly be graduating from preschool tomorrow. It's not possible. If I could stand outstide and boycott this event, I would. But these blue eyes you see below would be so upset with me as he has been counting down the days, the minutes, the seconds for what seems like the entire year now.
Baxter, tonight I write to you, because Lord only knows that tomorrow night, when all is said and done, I can bet to say that we will all be crashing hard. But tonight, I've already checked on you both three times. I removed the Dr. Seuss ABC book and your ball and gloves from your hand, but you swore that you wouldn't get any bigger over night. I'm just checkin'.
Over the course of a week, I have written some of your "Baxterisms" in the journal above the refridgerator a number of times. You have been a riot with your one line wonders all week. You cannot wait to go to 'George Washington, DC' and stay in the 'show n tell.' But not with Emmie because "I told her that you told me that I can't get married just yet." And that "867-5309 is not really our 'address' we just tell people that we don't know that's where we live." I simply cannot get enough.
I apologize to your brother all the time. For not being "all-in" two years ago. When life seemed to be too much to enjoy these incredible moments. Trippy, I am so sorry. I would go back in a heart beat if I could. I would. I don't ever want to forget these moments.
For example. Tonight we did our thank you notes and gifts to our teachers. To see the differences in letters between two years and five short days, they were leaps and bounds. Baxter writing a I, shape of a heart, U and then his name in all caps, to Tripp being the perfectionist, in the most perfect handwriting, Thanking Mrs. Thompson for allowing him in her classroom and sharing her knowledge with him. Who are you?!? God I am so proud!
Tomorrow night, Baxter, I will watch you in action. I have already pinky sworn to you that I will find you before the ceremony and give you a hug and kiss before I sit down. It was the first request you had of me tonight. As Tripp asked you details of the graduation, you quickly shut him down and said, "Stop! Don't give it away! It's a seeeeeeeeeeeecret for Mommyyyyyyyy." I love how dramatic you are at times. Again, please don't every stop. Your teachers have told me already how much they are going to miss you and your eagerness to help them throughout the day. Two other mommies stopped me in the hallway this morning to inform me that their daughters are going to marry you. You will make one woman so very happy one day. For now, I am reaping all the benefits every single day!
You have set out your clothes for graduation. And your dog is ready to go by the door. The first person to sign is Gracie. After that, apparently we have to find Tripp in the school. We may need to make exceptions to Piss-Piss this go around. And we're calling him PP, FYI.
Tomorrow, please promise me you won't get upset when you see tears on my face. They will be the happy tears, my love. I had been warned these years would fly by and without my knowledge nor my permission, my preschool days are leaving on a jet plane.
A is for A, a, a, a, a, a, pple. B is for B, b, b, b, b, Baxter the graduate! Oh, and BBBBBBoys!
My sincere boys writing their thank you notes.
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