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Chris and I are constantly talking about how William = me and Katie = Chris.  The sexes are completely opposite of the personalitites.  William is sensitive, mathematical, always wanting to impress… like me.  Katie is strong-willed, does tasks on her own terms, extremely resourceful… like Chris.

You wouldn’t catch me letting a doodle bug crawl all over my hands though!  No way!

William is always bringing schoolwork home.  Sometimes I’m impressed… sometimes it’s the same old stuff and I just throw it out (gasp! I know!)… and sometimes I all out laugh.

Ever since the first day of school the kids have been counting up to the 100th day.  In keeping with the theme of this date soon approaching, the schoolwork this day was to draw what you think you’ll look like when you’re 100 years old.

Good thinking.  You probably will need a wheelchair.  I’m not quite sure why your skin color would change though.  LOL

William brought home some chalk artwork he did at school.  I was pretty impressed with it.  That’s a good looking plane! 

…

Wait a minute.  Is that plane on fire?  Why is the plane on fire?  What’s the guy doing? 

…

William informed me he’s parachuting from the plane.  Chris pointed out the guy seems to be extremely happy that he’s parachuting out of a burning plane.  He also assures me it’s just a “boy thing.”

In William’s Kindergarten class they are working on reading and writing… “site words”, etc.  This was a combination of all of that plus a little art. 

To My Dear Son,

I find it ironic that as I type this I am sitting in the waiting room of the hospital where you were born. (Your Dad is having surgery to repair a torn ACL in his right knee.) I wanted to write this on your actual birthday, but the fact that I didn’t have a spare moment until now makes it seem almost “meant to be.”

I can not believe you are six years old.  It is completely baffling to me that I can remember so clearly the day you were born and how super tiny you were, then look at you now… try to pick you up… and almost strain my back doing so.  You are such a loving, sensitive little man.  The night before your birthday, as you lay in bed, me tucking you in, I told you the story of the day you were born and you loved it.  I may make it a birthday tradition.

You were due on Valentine’s Day.  We had a Doctor’s appointment the morning you were born.  They told us you weren’t ready to come out yet.  We were so ready to meet you that we already had our bags packed and in the trunk of the car just in case.  As we were getting ready to leave, Daddy mentioned to the Doctor that I had had contractions the previous Friday evening and that I had mentioned you weren’t moving as much since then.  The Doctor had Mommy lay back down.  They used a machine to look at you inside Mommy’s belly.  Lo and behold, you needed to come out.  We were sent nextdoor to the hospital and at 6:03pm, you were taken out of my belly.

Approximately 2 hours later, we were in a hospital room together.  I vividly recall holding you in my arms… Daddy standing next to me on my right… Grandma & PawPaw (though we didn’t know that would be his name yet… you ended up giving him that name) at my left.  I looked up at Grandma (she’s my Mommy, you know), with tears in my eyes.  Because sometimes tears aren’t because you’re sad.  Tears can be because you’re so unbelievably happy you cannot control them.  I said to my Mommy, “We get to keep him.”

Thank you for letting us keep you.  I love you, Buddy.  Happy 6th Birthday!

Love, Mommy

Wearing Your Birthday Hat at School

The "Castle Crashers" Cake Mommy Made You

Ice Cream Cake For Your Party