My son turned 5 a few weeks ago. It has been a exciting year of milestones rarely commented on by parenting books, blogs, or otherwise. He is growing into himself and showing the glimmers of the grown person he will become. He is also stretching his wings against the familiar boundaries of family, school and rules. He is, like his mother, an emotional being, and sometimes his stretching has hurt immensly. Hurt us all. When he was a tiny, colicky baby there were times of such painful exhaustion and helplessness that the two of us would end up puddled together on the floor, sobbing with abandon. But he grew and learned and adapted and accepted and stretched-- so that those first tearfilled months gave way to years of smiles. I was surpised how quickly those tears resurfaced in these past difficult weeks. The feeling of helplessness swelling inside my chest, pushing away all rational thought and leaving me puddled, this time alone, on the floor. This was not my boy, this angry child, screaming and lashing out over the most insignificant things. A lemonade. A kleenex. A band-aid. My feet felt unsteady everytime I took a step. Then a most horrific day came, appearing perfect and full of sunshine but ending in an event I promised I would never do. I spanked my son. It is true that my son put himself, his sister and myself in danger that day but in the end what I really did was break a promise. When we were talking about it later I explained to Gavyn that when I get really angry I stop thinking and acting like myself. Instead I act as my own parents did when they were angry. Saying this thought outloud had as much of an impact on me as it did on my son and I knew we were at a very significant breaking point. We could continue forward as we were and continue breaking each others hearts or we would break free of our pattern and grow forward. We have made changes as a family -- slowly and deliberately pulling ourselves back into the sunshine. My husband came up with an ingenious plan that lets my son see he doesn't need to act out to get our attention. It also helped my husband and I to see that we do correct Gavyn a little too much. I did, in my desperation, order a parenting book but the most volatile of our moments seemed to have difused before the book arrived. That's not to say our days are tear free. We all still have our (most human) moments. But there are more happy tears now than there have been in a seemingly long time. Gavyn starts kindergarten in 10 days and his excitement and anticipation are a joy to behold. He decoded the secrets of reading a few months ago and glows with pride whenever he can decipher a phrase. He started gymnastics, took his first plane ride, and rides his bike everywhere he can. He's overcoming his fears and hesitations. He's growing up. Excuse me while I wipe my eyes.

Gavyn started school last week. An exhausting, emotional ride for us all. He's happy. He loves his teacher and has some preschool friends in his class to ease the transition. Blake and I are trying not to agonize over the details-- at least not yet. For a boy who can already read,  do basic math, and make friends with ease and sincerity.....what could Kindergarten possibly teach him? Come to think of it, he does need to learn how to tie his shoes.......