"Those who hear not the music think the dancers mad."

My beautiful friend Carrie sent me a card with that quote, and I love it.  (She asked me to be in her wedding in that card, and I love that too, but that's not the point here.)

Aidan very much reminds me of that.  He marches to the beat of his own drummer.  I told him I wanted to take a picture of him with his backpack for the first day of school, and this was the closest to a portrait I could get.  He wanted fighting pictures (Bey Blades "Blay Blayers").  He wanted to see the pictures after I took them, and he loves them.  It's smack-on Aidan.

His teacher sent home a form to send out to tell our hopes and concerns about our kids.  I have lots of both, but my biggest hope/concerns is that he's so beautifully unfiltered - so happy and confident in himself, not knowing or caring what is cool.  I hope that the other or big kids don't beat that out of him; I want him to stay so gloriously dorky, so himself - so honestly cool.

what's new?

I'm wondering how many days he'll get out of the car when I drop him off for school and yell, "Bye, Mommy!  I love you!  Have a great day!"  I could eat him.

I adore this stage where he's sounding things out and so proud of doing it by himself.  This is the text from a birthday card Aidan wrote for Lou Marino, our neighbor, on his 85th birthday on Saturday (Lou was pretty happy to get it!).
HAPE BRF
DA
TU
LU

Again, I could eat him!

and so it begins for the next generation

Audrey, my niece, who's 2 and a half, had a great one the other day.

My sister insists that she doesn't deserve it (clearly she did), when Audrey popped out with, "Mommy, you not being nice....Lord help you!"  I hope she's writing some of these down too.

little man

My gorgeous sweetheart love angel,

I am clear.  I know that your growing up is part of this deal.  I remember feeling like others might not understand when I was little.  You are growing up.  You should.  You must.  I want you to.

I try my best, but I'm not good at it, not to long for the you who's gone while the you who's here is right here for me to appreciate and snuggle.  It's hard.  You're my only you, and honestly, you're spectacular.

You are bright, inventive, curious, involved, funny, loving, appreciative, thoughtful--as well as I know you, you constantly surprise me.  You take the right things seriously and have fun as much as possible; we could all learn a thing or two from that approach. 

As you know, I find you completely irresistible.  I'm also terrible at not showering you with affection; I'm working on it, I promise.  As you're inevitably growing up, I feel the window for such showering closing.  I believe there will be a day when you might not want to be seen with me, when I'll embarrass you (you know, when I'm doing it unintentionally).  It's possible to miss this you who's with me right now as I see the you who will be creeping in, which drives me to drink in every moment I can. 

Yes, I know that I'm nuts, and as much as you do, I also wish that I could turn all this off inside my head and just be as you do.  I can't.  I do, however, love you silly.  Always will; every bit of you.

All this to wish you well as you start kindergarten next week, a new adventure.  Fly, my little man, fly.  You are beautiful.