William's last day of preschool

Today was William's last day at Westminster. It was his last day of pre-K.

Here he is, after I picked him up for the very last time today at noon:




















I'm now telling myself, "Self, your son has officially finished preschool and will be heading toward kindergarten in just a few short months. That's right. Your son. The one who was born five years ago. The one who can button his own shirts and write his name and uses words like "awkward" and "devour" correctly in conversations. The one who's ready for kindergarten. That one."

As you can probably surmise, I'm still trying to get my brain around this. Intellectually, I know that it's just the next logical step, but emotionally, I'm sort of staggering around, clutching my chest, and moaning, "My baby! He can't be ready for that yet!"

The thing is...he IS ready. He's totally ready. His teachers have been saying for months that he's ready. And he really is. And really, I'm ready, too. I've been working on getting used to it for awhile now. I'm almost there. I just need a few more weeks to really get used to it. And by the time the first day of kindergarten rolls around in early August (gulp), I will be ready.

It's helped that we've had a few transitional activities along the way. There was the Mother's Day tea a couple of weeks ago. And there was the end-of-the-year class pool party yesterday. (Spider-Man made an appearance.)



















Those sorts of things helped me prepare for the inevitable. And like I said, I mostly feel pretty good. I may be a little wobbly, come August, when I'm dropping William off at the elementary school FULL OF GIANT OLDER KIDS, but again, I've got some time to work on that. Plus, William will be attending a couple of weeks of day camp at church this summer, so it's not a complete break altogether just yet.

And oh, we got the sweetest little DVD of the Purple Room that William's teachers made and sent home with him today. I just watched it with him, and we grinned and sniffled through the whole thing.

Still. Wow. I can't believe the end of preschool is already here. I know that it's such a cliche to wax on and on about how it feels like just yesterday I was dropping him off for his first day of "school" at about 16 months. But well, it does sort of feel like that morning wasn't so very long ago.

Remind me of all this in another 13 years when he's about to graduate from high school. I probably won't be able to comprehend how fast the time passes then, either.

Upstairs, downstairs

Andrew can climb stairs now.

You've been forewarned.

Do not turn your back on him if he is within ten feet of a staircase. He will rocket up those steps so fast that your head will spin.

Walking, I think, is imminent. He's already doing that thing where he reaches out toward something, and you think he's going to take a step, but then he thinks better of it, and he sinks to the floor. But he's working up his nerve. I think it's going to happen soon.

Who gave my sweet little baby permission to grow up?

Andrew's first haircut

People always joke about how the second (or third) kid doesn't get nearly as much attention as the first kid did.

You know. No one ever takes as many pictures of the second kid. The second kid has to wear hand-me-downs from his older sibling. The toys aren't all new. The nursery furniture is secondhand. Etc. Etc. Etc.

Here's yet another example to add to the list. Another piece of evidence to lead to conviction, if you will.

I took Andrew to get his first haircut yesterday. But I didn't make an appointment in advance, or make a big fuss over it, or take three dozen photos during the session. He didn't get a special letter or certificate, and I didn't even rush home and blog about it. I was too busy, making sure that his older brother got a decent haircut, too, in fact.

It was almost a non-event, in fact. Well, except that Andrew did NOT like having his hair cut. I had to hold him on my lap, since he was not about to sit in the chair by himself. The lady draped both of us in capes, but his didn't stay on for very long. I finally pulled out my iPhone and showed him a video of William singing in his preschool class to keep him from writhing around.

And I did plunk him down in the front yard for a handful of snapshots when we finally got home. Andrew's hair wasn't very long in the front or on top to begin with, so the hairdresser mostly just trimmed the back. You can't really tell much difference from the front.



















You can see more in this next shot, though. The mullet is gone at last. That's all good.





















But still. I feel a little guilty that there wasn't as much pomp and circumstance around his first haircut. Because it seems like there's never as much pomp and circumstance for him, as the second child!

Uh oh.

When William started talking, his first few words were pretty typical for a baby.

"Cat." "Ball." "Duck." "Mama." "Dada." "Bye bye."

You know, the standards. He has a huge vocabulary now--how many other kids his age do you know who correctly use the words "awkward" and "devour"?--but he started out with the basics.

So what does it say about my younger son that his first real word was "Uh oh"?

That's right. Our sweet little guy


















has a little touch of the mischievous about him.

Oh yes he does. Andrew will drop his sippy cup off the tray of his high chair, lean over to look at it and say cheerfully, "Uh oh." Or he'll knock over a tower of blocks and chirp, "Uh oh!" Or he'll plop down on his bottom from a standing position and say, "Uh oh," like a warning, before rocketing off to get into something.

To be fair, we think he has a few other words now, too. He does say "Mama," although rarely on cue. And sometimes he tacks on an extra syllable so it comes out "Ma ma ma." He also sometimse says "Bye!" And the newest one is my favorite: "Cracker." It sounds more like "Kah-kuh" but it counts. He adores Ritz crackers, so we know what he's referring to.

I can't wait until Andrew starts trying to say "William." I know so many people who ended up with little nicknames because their little brothers or sisters couldn't say their first names correctly. In fact, my great-great aunt went by Bib Bib because some other, very young family member (maybe my grandmother, but I'm not entirely certain) couldn't get "Elizabeth" out. I don't know what "William" might end up sounding like, but I guess we'll find out pretty soon.

It does make me a little sad that Andrew will probably not say "CAT!" the way Baby William did. See, we no longer have the cats around our house; Corky and Smokey live at my in-laws' house, where they are treated like royalty. And as such, they are not subjected to the eager hands of small boys who want to pull tails. Andrew's only seen them a few times because they tend to vanish when we show up at Diane and Aaron's house. So they probably haven't even registered on his radar yet.

It should be fun, though, to see what other new words he starts to pick up. Guess this means we all need to be careful what we say, eh?

Easter photos

Here we are, all dressed up for Easter last Sunday:















We clean up pretty well, eh?

I took William into Big Church with me, which was an...interesting...experience. It wasn't his first time to sit through most or all of a service, but perhaps it wasn't the best time to expect him to do it again. He did enjoy the music, though, as I anticipated. Maybe next year, I can coax him to sing along with the Hallelujah chorus.

Speaking of William, doesn't he look dapper in his seersucker pants and polo shirt?



















I still wish I could have dressed him a "little boy" outfit one more time, but David has objected. And well, I guess since William is five now (see last post), I can see where he's coming from.

Andrew in his Easter outfit:



















It's a little blue pique cotton bubble with sailboats embroidered on the collar. That's what I'm talkin' about! Isn't he precious?

William with Diane and Aaron: