And that's a wrap on our first six years.
A few days ago we sang happy birthday to our oldest son and welcomed him into year six.
This year he graduates from preschooler into child, pilots Kindergarten and begins entering into a life away from home on a daily basis.
A friend reminded me a few days before G's actual birthday that we were tying up the last little loose ends of the most foundational years.
I joked that we had three days left to really make time and build up a few more layers in that foundation.
We laughed but the conversation drove me into introspection and maybe a little existentialism.
During the days leading up to his birthday, I watched the highlight real of six years play movie style in my mind.
As I reflected, I realized a smattering of our moments of deep connection and his Aha moments stemmed from sadness and grief.
Others were from times when one of us lost our cool.
A blessed handful were products of celebration and bliss.
But a good chunk were all born from those moments that make moms want to pull our hair out by the handful.
Those moments where I was so deeply frustrated and he was blind with irritation or anger or selfishness have actually been the bricks we've most often used to build the foundation.
I spent the first three years of his life being scared of screwing up in the heat of those moments. I dreaded losing my temper and patience. A beautiful realization emerged in my daily practice of finding the bugger picture. I realized those moments of inevitable imperfection were actually moments of living out what apology and grace and forgiveness looks like.
A good number of those terrible moments I'd like to never relive now serve as secure stones in his foundation. Stones on which we'll continue to build.
Is it a perfect foundation? Not hardly. But from what I can see its sturdy and ready to bear more weight.
And isn't that what the next phase of building requires?
As I cry into my homemade granola and lament sending my first baby out of the nest we call home and into the space-sky of kindergarten, I'm holding onto these first six years in my heart and in my mind.
And I'm praying that every time he needs to add another layer to the life he's building, he'll feel the steadiness of what we've worked so hard to build together.