time flies, school edition

A double post today, couldn't resist:

Dear Charlie-

This morning you packed up your yearbook, tucked your ipod into the pocket of your khaki uniform shorts, grabbed the bag of soda for your classroom party, and were heading out to your bus stop.  Your father remembered that we ALWAYS take a picture on your last day of school.  In the past, it has been when we walked down to meet you at your bus stop, but now that you are twelve (and refuse to have your parents anywhere NEAR your bus stop) and you have a party to go to after school lets out at noon today, and we won't even see you until tonight, dad snapped this before you left.

So a new tradition, the photo of your smiling face as you leave for your last day of school.

It was an interesting year-a whole new school,  a new schedule, higher expectations.  The first months were tough, lots of homework, a little bit of bullying to deal with.

You emerged strong, and confident, and your grades are good.  Although both your father and I know that you still haven't tapped your potential, as you complete your work until it is good enough, not the best it can be.  I don't know what you are holding out for, but for now I am okay with it. 

You are excited to have the summer stretched out before you.  You are asking to be more independent, and be allowed to make more decisions.  We will figure it out.  I am looking forward to having you home, and not just because you take over a lot of the house cleaning in the summer.  With not much on your schedule these next months (other than lots of dirt bike competitions) it will be interesting to watch you navigate your days.  We are encouraging you to help us out with the store, in some capacity, for a wage.  You are thinking of doing some babysitting.  And of course you will want to spend lots of time with your friends, maybe hanging out at the Highland Pool to see which girls show up that day.

You are getting so tall, and so mature, and I know these lazy summers are swiftly flying by.  I plan to enjoy every minute, and promise not to nag (too much).

Love, Mom