Success

For a kindergartner, the monkey bars are a status symbol. It's almost a dividing line:

"Can you do the monkey bars?"

"How many bars can you skip?"

"Can you do them backwards?"

Since starting school, Kyle's been obsessed with the monkey bars. For the first few weeks, he came home with a new blister everyday. He'd put a band-aid on, let it heal, then tear it open again a few days later.

But he was determined. Determined to catch up to that friend who could swing across so easily. Determined to do it for himself. And he's succeeded with flying colors. Everyday he shows me a new trick and waits for the "oohs" and "ahhs." He's pleased with himself, and I'm glad. Because he worked hard. He deserves it.

In fact, I've been amazed at his growth in all areas since he started school. I suppose it comes with the territory - they can't sit in school for hours everyday without learning something. But to compare him to the kid I dropped off at school 5 months ago - well, he's not the same kid. He's so confident in what he does and what he's learned. He's loves surprising me with something new he's learned and I love being surprised. It's amazing to watch.

A friend recently asked me if I regretted starting Kyle in school this year. My reply was, "Not yet. I might regret it later, but not yet."

But the more I think about it, the more I think my answer is a resounding NO. He's thrived this year. An extra year at home would've almost been wasted, academically speaking. His teacher has reached him in ways I couldn't. Sure, an extra year might have put him at the top of the class, but he's still in the top half.

And I think he always will be. Because if I've learned anything about my son this year, it's that he thrives on competition. Heaven forbid somebody know more than him or be able to do something he can't.

Oh, he doesn't get mad or jealous, but he notices, and internalizes it. Then he goes forth with a quiet determination to achieve. And when he does, it's magical. For him and for me.

It's a good quality to have, one that will serve him well.

Now, will he hate me when he's 15 and the last one to date and drive? Absolutely. But I think I can handle that.