An Open Letter To My Nine-Year-Old Son

On the eve of your first day in fourth grade, I’m filled with emotions.

But here it is. The truth. You are getting older.

We no longer crawl on the floor, playing with a myriad of Buzz Lightyear toys. They’ve been replaced by computer games that reward you with magical capes and rainbow shoes.

Gone are the days when you cowered behind me, too shy to talk to the other children at the park. Now, you talk endlessly to your friends on the phone, and love spending time at their homes.

When you were a toddler, you would empty the contents of Popsicle and cereal boxes. Then, you displayed them in a precision-straight line. Now, your father and I have to remind you (several times a day) to take the recyclables out to the trash bin.

At the same time, your father and I are so proud of you. You do well in school and love to help your classmates that struggle with reading and spelling.

You have a wonderful sense of humor and infectious laugh. While I don’t think I’ll ever understand why you watch the same scenes of Drake and Josh’s “Really Big Shrimp” movie over and over again, you delight in things that are a tad offbeat. (You get that from your father.)

Most importantly, you are a great role model for your two year-old brother. You always look out for him by automatically grabbing his hand while crossing the parking lot or dusting him off when he falls on the grass.

As your mother, I committed myself to teaching you how to be caring, respectful and responsible. I want to show you that the most important things in life have less to do with having portable electronic devices and expensive tennis shoes…and more to do with being kind toward others and sharing your inner light with the world.

You’re at a tender age – no longer a little boy, but not yet a teenager.

You still sleep with “Slusher,” your tattered, stuffed Siberian Husky.
You still like hugs from your parents.
And you still ask me to cut the crusts off your PB&J sandwiches.

These moments remind me how important it is savor this time and appreciate the changes to come.

So…we wish you the best in the coming school year. We know it will be your best year yet.

And, while you’re at it, can you take the newspaper outside to the trash can?