We have a preschool graduate in the house

Dear Camden,

This week, you graduate from preschool.

At this time two years ago, I was nervously anticipating the fall. It would be time for you to start preschool, and I didn't know if you were ready to leave my side.

When I dropped you off on your first day (with a really horrific haircut due to a razor guard slipping incident), you were so uncertain. I remember you dutifully putting your lunchbox on the cart outside of your classroom and then nervously looking at me.

As your teachers came to direct you inside of the classroom, your eyes filled with tears. At your teachers' direction, I mustered up all the enthusiasm I could manage and cheerfully said, "Have a great day! I'll see you after school!" before rushing down the hallway. The whole way home, I prayed that you were okay. That you didn't cry. That you weren't scared. I must've checked my phone every five minutes until it was time to pick you up. And I felt such a flood of relief when I saw your smiling face in the carpool line.

Little by little, you found yourself that school year. At the start of the year, you stuck to your cousin's side, allowing him to lead the way. By the end of the year, you had made friends and gone on play dates. Your teachers told me time and time again: "He's come a long way."

On the first day of your last year of preschool, you walked right into the classroom like you owned the place. You didn't look back at me. There was no uncertainty or hesitation. You forgot to hug me goodbye. Don't worry, though; that didn't make me sad. I felt proud of your newfound confidence. I loved watching you walk in the room and choose your own activity without waiting for direction from anyone else.

You've made me so proud over these past two years at school. You've learned a lot academically, but more than that, you've become such a kind, secure, smart, confident, and honest little boy. You've made so many friends and, in the words of your teachers, you've "definitely come out of your shell". In short, you're a kid I feel incredibly proud to call my own.

Congratulations, my sweet boy. Kindergarten, here we come!

I love you,
Mommy