Kindergarten!

Kindergarten arrived without too much anxiety or fanfare for you (or your dad). Gigantic surprise, it was steeped in both for me. The days are long (7:45-2:55), and I was struggling with the unknown - how will you adapt to the structured day? how will you feel about it once June arrives? what kind of friends will you make? will your teacher see and understand you? how the heck will you consume enough food to sustain energy throughout the day? - but in true Charlie fashion, you just rolled with all of it.

Rally Day was the Friday before school started, and while you quietly clung so tightly to my hand (cue all the choked back tears) as we walked into school to discover your teacher and class list, as soon as we hit your new classroom, you were eager to explore. You had questions for your teacher about centers and the loft area, and we read through the rules posted on a bulletin board and joked that you were already good at all of them - you were undoubtedly going to rock kindergarten. We spent the weekend living up the last bit of summer, and by the time Monday morning arrived, you were giddy to finally get to break in all of your new clothes and shoes. (I pulled a real mom move and wouldn't let you wear any of them until school started. Oh, the delayed gratification!) We made a deal that if I could pick out your first day of school and picture day outfit, you could pick out your clothes all other days of the year. You're all-sports-gear-all-the-time nowadays. I thought your fancy clothes days were frustrating, but I didn't know how much I'd miss them. 

You woke up with a jolt ready to greet Monday morning, and as we sat down for breakfast, you listened intently as your dad and I read through the back-to-school breakfast placemat we made you the night before reminding you exactly who you are and to honor and be confident in all of it as you step into this new school year. We snapped pics and sprinted through our morning routine - shoot, 7:45 comes quickly. After coaxing you into letting me snap some pictures outside your classroom (moms are so embarrassing), we walked in to find an apple and a gummy worm waiting for you at your seat. Holy moly. "Mom! In kindergarten, you get candy for breakfast." Nevermind this wasn't your breakfast, and I was pretty certain this wouldn't be the everyday norm, I wanted to kiss Ms. Bulluck for the goodies. We turned to go, and you didn't even kind of glance towards us. Your tablemate, Stella, whispered to you that Ms. Bulluck said you could eat your gummy and apple now or save them for later as you were shoving the tail of the worm into your mouth. She sweetly caught herself mid-sentence and said, "Oh. I guess you just want to eat all of it right now." At pick-up you were ecstatic. It had been a great day, and you couldn't believe all the fun stuff you get to do at your new school. Your favorites so far are the two recesses, running the track, PE, music, art, computers, and playing in the centers in your classroom. My theory is that you love the routine and schedule of the day. You love predictability, and since you were a newborn, you've lived by a schedule. Kindergarten is one big routine and constant motion - your two favorite things. God bless a kindergarten teacher. You're only a month in to school, and we've already seen an amazing improvement to your writing, reading, and drawing skills. I'm in awe of your teacher and this sweet school. 

You've settled right in to big-kid school, Charlie boy, and as usual, when I get overwhelmed by all the unknown, you're there to power through it like an enthusiastic, optimistic little champ. We're hoping this is just the start of a long love affair with school. 

Summering with the Belly

We try our best to live it up in the summer. There's absolutely no reason to be doing anything outdoors that doesn't involve water in this Texas heat, so we always make a "find water every day" goal and pen a ridiculously long list of summer musts. This summer promised to be a little different because my belly is just unbelievable, but you were so kind and patient with me the entire stretch. We moved at a different (read: slower) pace, but we packed as much in as we possibly could, so that when kindergarten hit and a new baby joins us, we can look back at our last summer alone together with no regrets.

We got in a routine of walking/bike riding every morning, and you found a neighborhood cat, Sunny, that you just had to stop and see each and every loop. Sunny loves to be brushed but will randomly freak out and scratch and bite you, as any wonderful cat will do, but your love never wavers. You walk up to him with the same sweet voice each time certain he's so happy to see you. We started the summer, per usual, with swim lessons, and it's just my very favorite way to jump into the season with you. You get reminded of all the skills you have and quickly build new ones, and then your dad and I spend the rest of the summer in awe of your fish-like abilities. Your uncle Kevin taught you some pretty awesome jumps, and you couldn't wait for your swim teacher to give you the green light on the diving board so you could show off. Your preacher's seat will forever be my favorite. We had a week after swim lessons before we headed to Minnesota, and in the downtime, you started summer tee-ball with the Bears, and we headed north to Dallas to celebrate your uncle Kevin's 40th birthday. You love that guy so dang much and declared on the way up there that you were going to do a performance at his party. You had been hitting an Eminem song (no parental judgement needed) pretty hard and were just certain Kevin needed it sung at his party. The moment never grabbed you, but you lamented on the way home that you got too nervous and missed your chance. The world will never know, Charlie boy. Our annual trek up to Kavanaugh's was next on the list, and in a wonderful moment of luck, your dad was able to join us, and it absolutely made the week. You had wild dreams of going to Colorado and then to New York (thanks, Taylor Swift) right after we left Kavanaugh's, but you dealt with it all pretty well when we told you Minnesota would have to be our last family of three trip before June arrives. And well, Kavanaugh's just never disappoints. We swam and swam and swam, fished, tubed, and worked in some horseback riding - perhaps not my best decision at 8 months pregnant. You run yourself so ragged up there. It's just constant motion - your favorite kind. It's this gigantic cocoon of love and support and positivity and watching all of the cousins move around together this year was so sweet. Y'all are just the best little pack, and I hope all of these yearly trips cement in your minds and hold you close together always.

We came home just in time for the Fourth of July and spent the morning boating around with friends and the night watching your first firework show. You were so in awe of the colors, the sound, and of course, the finale. Why have we never committed to keeping you up late before? Right after the holiday, you took off for Dallas to spend some time with your Gigi, Pops, and Jake and Hudson. Your dad and I ducked away from reality for a little bit while you spent a long weekend doing pretty much whatever the heck you wanted. We finished out July with baseball - we went to your first professional baseball game; you sat there just enamored with the game, the between-innings fanfare, the food, and the $1 sodas. I think you'd go back every night. Your first season of summer (tee) ball ended soon after, and this season your coach nicknamed you Thor because he let you start using one of his bats called the Hammer, and you just kept crushing the ball. Your Poppy Jim, Marge, Jen, Matt, Madi, Jackson, Gaga, and Papa came out for your final game of the season which happened to be played on the swankiest astroTurf field, and at your first at-bat, you CRUSHED a HOMERUN! Holy moly. Jennifer and I cried and cried as you rounded the bases running your dang legs off. You were positively glowing, sweet boy. Just the best way to end the season. Three weeks of gymnastics drove us right into August, and you loved every minute of it. You're not the most limber little person, but what you lack in ability, you make up for in confidence and positivity. On the first day, as they were trying to place the 5-7 year olds in groups by ability, a coach asked you if you'd done gymnastics before, and when you enthusiastically replied, yes! he followed up asking if you could do a cartwheel and another YES! flew right out of your mouth, so he pointed you towards a group of much older kiddos. I cringed at the door. You did two weeks of gymnastics last summer, and there is no way in H-E-L-L you can do a proper cartwheel, but I let it play out. As soon as the groups broke up, the coach asked each of you to demonstrate your cartwheels. You watched all the other boys do their for-real-deal cartwheels and then stepped forward and confidently did a glorified donkey kick certain you had matched their skill set. The coach kindly pointed you over towards a group of your peers at the trampoline, and I really think you thought you got moved right up. I love your confidence. We cleared the calendar for the last two weeks of summer and concentrated on marking all the things off our summer list - swimming, waterslides, diving boards, trampoline parks (with "grip socks!"), waterparks, library stops, bagel dates, kickball...we did it all.

Before we knew it, it was time for Highland Park Rally Day, and while you were excited to start kindergarten after all the build-up, I still can't believe how quickly our 80 days of summer passed. Your dad and I will forever be grateful for this last chunk of time to enjoy all of you. You're the most delightful little human.

 

 

Five!

Celebrating you is so dang easy to do, so we did it about 100 times for your fifth birthday, and you ate it up!

You've been waiting to celebrate your birthday at school since the beginning of the year. Your new best bud Samuel's birthday is in September, so waiting for your May celebration has been almost a whole school year in the making. Maaike made you feel so special, and I felt unbelievably lucky to be helping parent and get to share in your whole day of birthday joy. You decorated your crown, got to be the first at choosing all the things, and then at story time you finally got to sit in the special birthday chair as all your friends sang the dutch version of "Happy Birthday!" and Maaike and I hoisted you up in the bear chair for three hip-hip-hoorays! You were positively glowing. After school we invited all of your school friends to Ramsey for snacks, cupcakes, and play. We capped the day with a trip to Hat Creek because they've got chicken nuggets, a playground, and milkshakes. What more could you want?

You were dreaming so big for your birthday party this year, and since you're the kindest, smartest, funniest, most wonderful kid we know, your dad and I got sucked into your birthday imagination vortex. Ninja party? Sure. Sno-Cone food trailer? Why not? Waterslide that's taller than our house? All seems reasonable. I may have said way too many yeses before I added up all that you were dreaming of for your big day. Being your mom is real tricky. You don't ask for much, so when you do, it's really really really hard to say no. Your dad and I are pretty certain you know this and are just the most wonderfully manipulative little human on the planet, but you're just so dang kind about all of it; it's hard to know for sure. You ended up with no sno-cones, but our neighbors had a gigantic waterslide in their garage, so your ninja waterslide dreams came true. Pretty much it was a waterslide party with a little obstacle course and a blow-up, punching bag ninja. You declared it your "best party ev-er!" You'd been asking us for a wetsuit, so you threw that on as soon as possible on Saturday, and we waited and prepped for all your family, neighbors, and life-long friends to come over and then partied so hard celebrating you.

Five feels so good. You're smart, funny, adventurous, and kind. We'd replicate you, if we could. You're just perfectly ours.

 

Moon Date

Way too early this morning you woke up to go to the bathroom and quietly tiptoed into our room without me even hearing your tiny footsteps. With your little lips brushing my cheek, you whispered, "Mom, wanna come out on the deck and see the moon with me?" There's not many people I'd get out of my warm bed for too early in the chilly morning, but goodness, this was an offer I just couldn't refuse, so hand in hand, we crept out to the deck, and there it was - the brightest, most beautiful moon I've ever seen sitting just beyond our trees. You sat in my lap and said, "See? I could see it through the window, and I knew you'd love it. It's round all the way. And beautiful," and you leaned over and planted the biggest smacker right on my lips. It was without a doubt the very best morning I can remember. You, my boy, are magic: your tender heart, your giving nature, and the love that pours so purely from your soul. Let's moon date always.

Summer, Summer, Summertime!

Nothing says love like finishing a summer blog in December...

Charlie Wahlers. We dang near spoiled you rotten this summer. We kicked off June with swim lessons, moved right into a week of camp at the Co-op, immediately jetted off to Minnesota with your dad's family where even though you got sicker than sick, you zipped around soaking up every ounce of Kavanaugh's goodness. We got back just in time to celebrate the Fourth and packed up for a trip to Colorado with Poppy, Marge, your crazy aunts, uncles and cousins. There are just no words for the peace and joy and ease that blessed us for an entire week. It was the ultimate adventure. When we got home, you took off for a week of GiGi camp, and GiGi and Pops made your every wish come true; you ate up every bit of it and were sobbing on the car ride home. I guess it's tough to leave overwhelming love. We rounded off the summer with gymnastics camp squeezing in just every bit of fun that we could. Looking back, I'm unsure where all our energy came from; it's all a bit of a blur, but oooh wee, I know for certain we sure had a ton of fun.