I have sat down to write this post so so many times since Friday. The events in CT hit so close to home for so much of the country, and especially at our house. See we have this little boy, who just turned six. He is the light of my life. My sweet little thing. My reader. My Lego builder. My helper with his little sisters.
His birth year is the same as all of those sweet names on the list of little angels. 2006.
My life changed that year, and I know the same is true for all of the parents of the children in CT. I just cannot wrap my brain around what happened. What those families are thinking and feeling. The black whole that they have fallen into on Friday. And the fact that they might not see sunshine again for a long, long time.
Instead of writing a post about my sweet little guys sixth birthday, and Christmas festivities, I will write about the magic that is everything six.
Six is fun. Being six is happiness. Six is loving school and the bus and your friends and your teacher. Six is loving school, but still maybe missing life at home with your family at the same time. Part of a six year old wants to be “grown up” and a “big kid” on the bus, and the other part still cries hard when they fall down and scrap their knee. They still want Mommy to kiss their boo boo and make it all better.
MY six year old is trapped between the world of being big and the preschool world of being little. He LOVES all things boy. Power rangers, Legos, super heroes, and Ninjago. But, he still sleeps in his Christmas jammies and cuddles up with his beloved Hershey Dog at night. Bradley still wants to be tucked in, sleeps with his night light on, and his water music playing. He loves to color and do his sticker books. He can read and write short sentences. He writes me letters and post its and cards and stamps and leaves them around the house. He labels his projects, and puts up little signs to ward off his trespassers (i.e. his little sissies). My six year old is a drawer. Bradley can free draw anything, Power Rangers, Jake the Pirate, animals. He truly has talent. His pictures and artwork hang around the house and in his room.
His closest is filled with cowboy boots, collared shirts for church, and angry bird shirts for play time. He loves to wear his belt and cowboy boots to look like daddy. But, deep down he would prefer to wear a t-shirt every day of the week.
He finally will play outside or down in the basement without Mommy. Not for long, but he will do it. Sometimes.
He will set the table, empty the dishwasher, and put his clothes away from the wash.
Bradley loves crafts, coloring, reading, running, school, family, being at home, swimming, adventures, nature walks, the play ground, pizza, McDonalds, ice cream, ellie and grace, making his sisters laugh, tennis, music, all things holiday inspired, movies (Home Alone is the current favorite), his friends, his little neighborhood, the bus, his school.
He is a helper. A lover of his family. My six year old.
Six is just beginning. Just like A.A. Milne wrote, who is the author of Winnie the Pooh…
Now I am Six: by A.A. Milne
When I was One,
I had just begun.
When I was Two,
I was nearly new.
When I was Three,
I was hardly me.
When I was Four,
I was not much more.
When I was Five,
I was just alive.
But now I am Six, I’m as clever as clever,
So I think I’ll be six for ever and ever.
Now he is six. I am thankful he is here. Alive and well.
I pray for the families in CT. We all pray for you. Your loss, your tears, and your heartache. May God have mercy.