As my kids are winding up their school year (not quite quick enough for me!) and bringing home interim reports that have my eyes seeing ABBABABABABBA... I think back to when they were so small... and all that mattered was how they behaved, what they shared, and how well they played. I often refer to "the preschool years"... in kind of a negative way. It was just hard... learning to balance my life with two little sweeties, who depended on my every scrap of attention. The truth is, even through the mess I was, I knew is was a magical time. And I was so thankful for the opportunity each of them had at pre-school. I'm not sure they would be the people they are today without it. I don't think I would be the person I am without it. It was there... that we opened our hearts fully to Jesus. You never graduate from Jesus... but they did graduate from pre-school... with flying colors tucked into their pockets and Jesus tucked into their hearts.
And this school... has always been a place to grow.... and it has become a family tradition. When Tina called and told me that Oakley was going to Grace... I cried. And soon... I hope that Chelsea(that sandy-oreo-eating-sweetie)will have her turn.
And then there is this man... my hero. While I was struggling my way through the pre-school years... he juggled being a daddy & husband along with his full-time job, the USCG reserves and school. I am so humbled by the way he shows his love for us... the way he provides for us. But perhaps, never so proud as when he came home from his many deployments and set to work on one more goal... graduating from the police academy. He is... and always will be... my hero.
Flashing back on a Friday... with a few tears in my eyes.