I opened the back door and called out, "Okay, boys, it's time to go!"
Talmage sprang to his feet and let out his typical, "Oh, BOY!" as he ran to the car.
He could hardly contain his enthusiasm.
It was time to drop off his kindergarten registration packet.
It might seem like a simple event, but deciding what to do school-wise with him has been quite the conundrum!
It's not something we've taken lightly.
We've considered so many options.
For a while I was pretty seriously considering home schooling.
Charter schools and elementary schools we're not zoned to took their fair share of thought.
But, in the end, we felt guided that for our family's specific situation, this was the best way to go.
And it's been a struggle for me to fully accept.
Today his excitement filled him to the bursting.
We walked into the school and I was immediately transported back in time 20 years as I breathed in the familiar scent of crayons, pencil shavings, and Elmer's glue.
Registration packet in hand, Talmage marched into the front office, slapped it onto the desk, and proudly declared, "I'm five! And I'm about to start kindergarten!"
"Do you have a name, five?" the secretary teased.
"My name's not five!" he exclaimed.
"It's T-A-L-M-A-G-E." he spelled out, writing each letter dramatically on the desktop with his finger.
I stood back and watched Mr. Social work his magic as he soon had the office staff and the school principle gathered around him as he told them tale after tale, from FHE lessons to our move to Utah.
He was on top of the world.
He held his new packet of picture books, crayons, erasers, and more like it was a treasure.
When we returned to bring in one more document I'd forgotten, the secretary took his hand and led him to the back of the office to show him how the copy machine worked.
As they disappeared I heard her say to the principle, "Look! Our friend is back!"
He was on cloud nine for the rest of the day,
insisting that he wanted to ride the school bus from day one
and asking me questions to gauge just how many days there were until summer would be over.
It still tugs at my heartstrings a lot to think of the limited time I have with my boy to myself.
(And when I heard Wesley say, "We're all going to miss Talmage when he goes to kindergarten!" I had those "Mommy-feelings," as Sam calls them, well up inside of me!)
But I couldn't help but share in his excitement today as he prepares to enter the next stage of life.
My boy is growing up.