My dear Tyson,
Nine months ago I hesitantly left you- my very little and very young baby boy- in a huge classroom full of strangers. We were both nervous. You showed it by keeping your head down. Clinging to my hand a little tighter.
You didn't cry the first day, but I did. In the parking lot of your school with my sunglasses on and head down-just like you.
For the first few weeks, I religiously showed up 15 minutes early for pick up hoping to catch a glimpse of you walking in line or sitting in circle time. I smiled when I saw you holding hands with a new friend and beamed as I watched you follow in line back to your classroom.
In the past nine months, you have learned how to write your name and cut out shapes. You can sing songs that I don't know the words to. You can count to ten in Spanish. You know the days of the week. You play with friends better. You know about fire safety and the seasons and bugs and church. You celebrated Jesus's birthday and wore your pajamas to school! You went to the zoo and the apple orchard. You planted bean sprouts and read books.
You have learned things I would have never thought to teach you. You have met friends that I could never have introduced you to. You made art projects that I will cherish forever.
Today, I watched you-my big preschool graduate-confidently stand in a room full of friends listening intently to your teachers and sneaking proud smiles back at me.
Today I know for certain what it feels like when your heart swells with pride for I could feel my heart expanding when they called your name, I sat a little straighter to see you walk to the front of the class, and, thanks to miraculous restrain on my part, I managed to only shed a few tears as Miss Debbie handed you your preschool diploma.
I am so, so proud of you baby.
Happy preschool graduation.