Dear Jack,

So, I took a break.

You turned five right at the beginning of what turned out to be a pretty fantastic summer. We were unscheduled but busy, living out life in this great place we live. I tapered down the self-stealing medication and got some of myself back. Enough, at least, to enjoy some momentous developments and many, many peacefully slow days.

At five, you are as excited about life as ever. I keep waiting for you to dampen your spirits or withdraw a bit. I know this change will come, but I am ever so grateful that for now you still live life BIG. Joie de vivre, indeed. You are so much fun to be around, and your lack of self-consciousness is truly refreshing. Maybe I am learning a bit from you while there is time. Time is the tricky part, right? It seems so incremental when you're five. Time passes so slowly that you feel like never is true. It isn't. All the things I thought I'd never do (when I was five) are done. Can you believe that? You can't understand this truth. Not until you live it.

Let me briefly recap what five has brought:

You ride your bike (Quite easily, with infrequent wobbles it turned out). You just...did it. I credit your days on the balance bike and a newfound confidence. I would be remiss if I didn't credit some natural ability.

You swim underwater, no swimmies. You jump off the diving board.

You go to kindergarten. We walk with friends and neighbors and I love that time.

You eat sushi.

You earned your orange belt in Tae Kwon Do. I don't think I can adequately describe how much fun it is to watch you learn these techniques. You have such a strong "KIYAH!" and good form.

You DRAW! All day, every day. You told me in the bath the other night that you can't stop thinking about things you want to draw. My heart! You are on a submarine kick lately.

You're still super-sensitive and sometimes hard to understand. You had a couple of rough weeks transitioning to your kindergarten schedule, but your teacher, Ms. Martina, is sweet and understood that it takes a while. Now you are riding high with your "good checks." You seem to really enjoy your related arts (music, art, P.E. and media center). I volunteer in your classroom each week. Even though I have my misgivings about public school in general, I like most of what I see so far.

I worry at times about how quick you are to deny responsibility. It's so crystal clear to me that something or things have made you scared to be wrong. I hate that. I will continue to try to teach you grace when it comes to mistakes, even the biggest ones. Where I fail in this is where you fail. I almost never let myself off the hook


. This is no way to live. I promise to work on it and try my hardest to help you learn it.

How can I tell you how to really love yourself? I can't. I can tell you how I love you, though.

You light up my days. You show me how I love. Sometimes, I feel nothing but pride and I know that I'm doing it right. Sometimes I want to crawl under a rock for the shamefulness that comes when you mirror the worst of me. When we are both low, I feel all of that baggage and all of that weight hanging over us and I feel powerless to shove it out of the way. Sometimes you bring me up. Sometimes I bring you up. Then there are the times when we are on the same page. We are speaking the same language. We are drawing pictures together or making biscuits or following a treasure map and it's just. right. I know in my heart that we will probably always move in and out of light and dark. Maybe the dark will get darker. Maybe the light will blind me. This is life. Why should it be any different?

All the time, though, I love you. You are a crazy, wonderful kid with a big heart and a huge imagination. I love to bear witness to it all.

Mama