Wilder starts kindergarten tomorrow. I wish I had more time to write a blog post, but we are moving this weekend and I am in last-minute mode. Or, as my father would say: The alligators are nipping at my ass.
So I just want to write a bit about how proud I am of him. He has already weathered a lot in his short life. Going on his fourth house, his fourth school, two states, the introduction of a very mercurial baby brother ... it's OK, Hunter, I'm mercurial too, btw.
At any rate, I will reflect on all this change and madness next week. But I am quite sure that tomorrow, as we go through our morning routine and as we drop him off in his classroom at school, that I will have to use every ounce of willpower I've got to keep myself from crying. He is not entirely unaffected by all this change ... he's more nervous and scared than I've ever seen him in approaching a new situation. Which is still not that much — but for him, enough to make me hurt for him. So if I cry ... well, no good.
So I'll hold it together. And then I'll bawl after we leave. And then I'll just pack some more.
Life goes on. Love you so so so so so so so much, Wilder. Good luck tomorrow kiddo.
