Silas Goes to School

Tuesday was a big one around these parts. Siley started pre-school.

He woke up and dressed himself (naturally). After surviving Calvin's early fashion independence, Silas became my only hope for being sent off to school in cute cargo shorts and a polo. Alas.... what we had was a quadruple-hand-me-down muscle shirt with a stain on the front.

To commemorate the day, I busted out a pair of handed-down sneaks, proclaiming them "Your new school shoes!" He totally bought it.

So, yes, he was excited. And I was amazed that my wiley Siley is school-bound. It didn't seem possible - still doesn't. But he marched in like he owned the place and seeing him with all of those other tiny people made me think that maybe he really is ready.

For all of my stewing about him and his maddening behavior and such, at the end of the day, he's still a 3 year old, one with a complicated start to life. He doesn't need to have all of life figured out. It's okay if he's a little on the wild side. His teachers seem ready for it.

{bless them}

He's growing and learning. He's throwing his weight around and doling out precious bits of information like, "I share my motorcycles" and "My fwiend cried but I say, 'Your mommy come back!'"

It slays me to watch him become more uniquely Silas Park, the boy he was always meant to be. He's cuddly and curious. Tough and resilient. He's a hilarious show-boat and I'm hopelessly addicted to smooching him. Don't even try to make me stop. He's ours - he's everything God knew we needed.

He drives us batty and exhausts us daily, but he tells us with recent regularity, "I love you, Mommy." "I like you." "You my fwiend."

It covers a whole host of ills.

 As for me, I now have five blessed hours a week for my own, bad self. I'm day-dreaming close-range adventures, coffee dates, and writing.

Or maybe I'll fritter them all away reading blogs and napping.

Anything is possible.