School starting.

I don't want to talk about it.

I don't even want to think about it.

So don't bring it up.  Ok?

I'd intended to write a humorous post about all the silly, sentimental, over the top things I was doing to make sure Jack's first day of Kindergarten was a success.  Things like making him homemade granola bars full of protein for his morning snack --empty calories will leave him hungry.  Or the way I planned out his hair cut schedule --hair cut two weeks before school started (just in case it was a bad one, it would have time to grow in.)  Or me forcing him to learn how and practice buttoning and unbuttoning his shorts.  Mike has told me stories about some weird kid in Kindergarten who peed with his pants around his ankles. I didn't want Jack to be the weird kid.  Or the trip down to Little Rock (with four preschoolers) to shop at the Container Store to find the perfect lunch box accessories.  Or the three shopping trips to make sure Jack had clothes that would look good.   Do you realize how much pressure there is to dress a child for his first day of kindergarten????  There will be 129 pictures taken and they WILL live forever.  Yes, if you called her right now, your mom could put her finger on your first day of school picture.  And when you saw it you'd look at it and laugh and say --you know what you'd say, you'd say:  "I can't believe my mom dressed me in that!"   Shame on you!  She did the best she could.  Don't mock!  Because of you I'm feeling all kinds of pressure over here!  (sorry, didn't mean to take it out on you.)

Anyway.  That was the post I was going to write.

But I'm not in the mood. 

I'm just a wee bit emotional about my baby growing up, my little friend moving on, my helper not being here. 

Five years I invested my entire being into this little one, work, frustration, disappointment then... results! 

Now I have a boy in my house who is one to be proud of.  I could list you a million reasons why I'm so proud of Jack.  I'll just give you one. Tonight, Ty fell out of the hammock.  He cried and cried.  He complained of a hurt back. After we had done our best to meet all of his hypocondratic needs, Jack sat there on the couch next to him and rubbed Ty's sore back.  He values the little ones in our home.
Our babies feel cherished because of the way Jack gets on the floor, smiles and talks baby talk to them.
They benefit.

We benefit.

Now I have to send him away?!?! 

We prayed about homeschooling.  God said no.  Even though I know God knows all the factors concerning this decision and is working our story out for His glory, I am tempted to make it all about me.  I put words in God's mouth and tell myself things like:  "God doesn't want you to home school because He knows you couldn't hack it.  You wouldn't be disciplined enough, strong enough, patient enough... good enough."

Isn't it interesting that when we begin to make things about us we either end up prideful or discouraged?

We have the option to trust or to worry:  "What if Jack gets lost?"  "What if he talks at the wrong time, gets chastised by the teacher and his feelings get hurt?"  "What if he gets rejected by a classmate?"  "What if he gets ketchup on his face at lunch and doesn't know it and someone laughs at him?"  --note to self, no condiments in the lunch for the first six weeks*

Or.  I can trust.

Just trust.
(Wow, my to do list got a lot shorter.)  I can trust that I have tried to be faithful to my calling as a parent, that I have taught him sufficiently and that God, his true father, will take even better care of him than I have.

I'll leave it at that.

I won't post the picture I took looking out my kitchen window at my three little boys playing in the backyard.  I won't talk about how much I'll miss him.  I won't talk about how much Ty will miss him.   Scratch that, yes I will.  This is how addicted Ty is to Jack.  Today Jack was in the bathroom.  He'd been in there long enough according to Ty.  So Ty went over, laid down on the floor, propped his feet up on the door and talked to Jack while he was ... um... taking care of business.  Not ten minutes can Ty be away from his big brother (heaven help him tomorrow!)

I'll take some of the 129 pictures and post a few on here tomorrow.  We are going to try to not be too bored or sad.  We've got plans to play at the park. 
We'll make it.
I think.