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Tiger must stay in your backpack...

   I'm not that parent. The one who gloats too much, and shows off all the pictures. The parent who relays every detail of their kid to let others know how incredible I think they are. Perhaps it is a flaw. Who knows. And I also pride myself in not being a helicopter parent. I teach and let go. I discipline and let go. 

  And I thought I would be ready for this: first day of Pre-K. I have been very positive and uplifting and have wanted my son to be extra ready to go to school. We have talked about it for months! I am ready... Or so I thought. 

This morning, as white boy was leaving to take them to daycare, he said to Owen, "You can't take Tiger to school tomorrow or he will have to stay in your backpack, so do you want to take him to daycare today?" I thought little of it, but as Owen threw him down on the ground and turned to head out the door, my throat hitched. "Are you sure you don't want to take him today?" He said no. It was a sense of finality. 

All day I thought little of it. And as we gathered around our prayer candle for our bedtime prayers we all said a special prayer for Owen as he was gearing up for first day. And as it came to my turn... I lost it. My tears fell down my cheeks and my mother's heart gripped that little boy not ready to let him go. 

He saw my tears and leaned into me as his hand gripped my shoulder. He doesn't quite grasp the magnanimous moment that I was holding, but he knew it was big. He has begged to go to school for so long, and here I was having to let him go. I walked him to bed, Tiger in hand, and knew his stuffy wouldn't be going with him tomorrow. It would be a first of many days him growing slightly more and more independent. 

I see parents do this all the time. I see them relinquishing their babies to the wide world through Pre-K, and highschool, and college... But it is my turn. God has given me a wonderful little boy who is growing into a bigger young boy. Although my heart may not be ready, he is... And that makes me think I have done something right. 

Owen Hayes, my beloved son, in who I am well pleased. Be blessed, my child. Conquer the world, my love. N. D. Wilson said it best: "The world is rated R, and no one is checking IDs. Do not try to make it G by imagining the shadows away. Do not try to hide your children from the world forever, but do not pretend there is no danger. Train them. Give them sharp eyes and bellies full of laughter. Make them dangerous. Make them yeast, and when they’ve grown, they will pollute the shadows." 

Be yeast my son and pollute the shadows! I am so proud of you! 



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