before school ends.

Last August, I pleaded in prayer, with anticipation, with excitement, and with fear... I wrote an open letter to Reese's potential teachers and classmates to simply get out my emotions.

This year has superseded any expectations I may have had.

I asked you to be patient. And you were, you so were. You waited on Reese to answer questions, you gave her time to think. You helped her recall that piece of information that was back there somewhere - and if she couldn't you guided her toward the answer as seamlessly as you could. You watched her squeal with excitement when she understood something and immediately conjured up a plan to aide her with what she didn't.  She never felt rushed or as if anyone was frustrated with her. She took her time to learn and you gave her that time without hesitation. You are so patient.

I asked you to be safe. No one outside of our family is seen as a safer place than her teachers and friends at school. They are who she lists that she loves, they are who she trusts when I make decisions that may change that day's schedule. No one was ever threatening to Reese and she learned each rule and regulation of the classroom with nothing but smiles and hugs. You let her cuddle you each time that she asked - and I do know that sometimes she knew right when you might have needed it. You gave her jobs when she felt aimless, you gave her strength when she looked defeated. The trust she has does not falter - and along with that comes so much love.

I asked you to be kind. I could not have written a better end to a kindergarten story than the friends that Reese has made. No one saw her "bad arm" as a problem. No one cared about her teeth being gone - except that they wish that they had lost theirs, too. When Reese was gone for chemo at first, they worried - truly worried. Her friends get emotional when Reese is hurt. The kindness shown by 5 and 6 year olds outshines most adults that I know. They defended, they hugged, they cheered every.single small victory. They pushed her hair out of her face when it brushed over her eyes. They wrote her notes of love. Her friends think her AFO boots are cool and that her having a resource teacher for some pull-outs is jealousy worthy, for sure. She was never left out, lest another friend set them straight. She is wanted and needed and loved and she feels every bit of that.

I asked you to be diligent. I slightly chuckled at myself when I re-read this one as within the first weeks of school, I asked them to be LESS diligent since I was getting numerous calls because everyone wanted to keep me in the loop. She figured out the bathroom in no time and her playground aide was gone quickly. They even built a ramp for Reese to walk onto the playground with because the step was very large. Every detail was taken care of. If she was falling behind, we re-organized her services. If goals were passed, I got calls about adjusting those. The care taken for this year was so supremely planned that I was able to sit at home with my coffee and laptop and feel nothing but overwhelming peace.

I asked you to be you. And wow, did I get some amazing people in our lives. YOU were what made Reese succeed. YOU were what made her love school. YOU were who knew what to do in all situations because you are so wonderful at your job. Every day was a blessing to Reese and I hope that you learned just as much from her. She doesn't fully understand that next year means such big changes, but some of her friends will hopefully follow her to the next classroom adventure. Every new person she will meet will be trusted because YOU are handing her to them. I apologize if that seems overwhelming, but I don't think it will be a problem as I have seen the people she has met at this school. I have walked the halls with Reese Skelte and it is nothing short of a small celeb with high fives and hugs and waves. How did she get so lucky...

My 3 elementary aged kids know that they are so special to one another. Seeing each other at lunch, in the halls, wherever always brought a story home. "I saw Aidan today!!!" was worth hearing a thousand times. "Sawyer was in the library!!" was information I may have known, but still loved having repeated by an excited 5 year old.

Kindergarten was something I could not even picture happening 3 years ago. I couldn't imagine how this would even look like. I didn't want to even go there out of fear of "what if..." But now, every morning, we jam out to dance music, unload the huge van, and shake our booties while we give kisses before they cross to the school. Tomorrow is the last day of the year and I will likely cry for the opposite reasons that I did last August. How amazingly bittersweet.

eta: last day of school pics!!

and now to compare beginning of the year on the left - and end of year on the right!!

Reese is 6.

I officially cried when the entire car started singing "Call Me Maybe". This is all I wish for my children - laughter and love and silliness and wonder. 

I blew up balloons until my chest hurt. I found the tape and unwrapped the streamers and decorated the ceiling of the van. I could picture what her face would look like when she saw it - and I was 100% spot on. 

This donut dress was the best surprise of the celebration - so perfect, so her. She looked fancy and free and her friends swooned which made Reese beam with pride. 

We rode around town picking up friends, singing, dancing, tossing balloons. We went to the donut shop and had a total "yes day" for Reese and her friends. Chocolate milk, kolaches, extra donuts... anything you ask for is a YES. 

I watched her friends help Reese with her dress, I smiled as they gave us to her as they walked by, I melted at their gentle touch when just playing with her hair. 

I blasted music and rolled down the windows as we sang Katy Perry's birthday song and rolled up to the school. They stepped out and walked into the school on a giggly sugar high. I collected my tears and memories and went home so full of happiness. 

...and so did Reese. 

Happy Birthday, Reesey. My quiet newborn. My sleeper and cuddler from day one. Your sneaky faces from the beginning of life and big eyes of wonder. You teach us how to love and live and make every day the best. You remind us to slow down and stop for a hug because, sometimes, that's all we need. You bring a smile to anyone's bad day, but you also have a temper that relates to that red hair. You're silly. You're demanding. You're smart and you work hard. You are thoughtful. You are the other half of "the troublemakers!!!!" with Miller and also Corbin's best friend. You are Aidan's sweet angel and Sawyer's fun cohort. My middle baby... I love you.

half way.

We are halfway through the school year. 

In a few hours, I will pick up my 3 oldest from elementary school and we will start christmas break. 
I thought I would worry every day that Reese was at school - but I didn't. I thought she would need so many accommodations to be with her friends, but she doesn't.  I thought my days would be filled with emails explaining things to teachers, but they aren't. 

Everything is so wonderful. I went to parties this morning, but per the usual, only R really wanted to take as many pics as I wanted to ;)

I love their poses and their giggles. I love watching the kids in the class interact w my girls. I love seeing Reese's friends come over and hug her or rub her back when she got sad that I was leaving. I love it all. 

We are about one more month away from our next MRI, in January. I think I mentioned before that we aren't going to stop chemo after a year, but ride it out for a little bit longer - since her side effects are nil. So we will hit a year on this chemo in the next few weeks and I can't believe how time has flown. 

One day last week, the school called me because Reese was acting tired and apparently she said her head hurt. I ran up to the school, wanting to throw up the entire drive. I get there, she hops into the car and shrugs her shoulders when I ask about "what hurts?" I ask her about her head? nope. She just sort of smiles as if she just wanted to spend the day with me. No nap, no complaining, nothing all afternoon - except "I have some boogers". While she did get to come home early and hang out with me, it made me remember that we are not, in fact, normal. Other kids go home because they don't feel good and their moms don't cry and want to throw up on the drive there. Just me. Other moms take their kids home and put them into bed and hope they don't have to run to the doc, but I do neuro checks and make her squeeze my hand w bad arm. 

When everything is going great, the rug that can be pulled is so very large. It is easy to forget it is there, but just a smidgen of movement and I feel like falling.

We are filling the break with the zoo, aidan's 9th (!!!) birthday, playing outside in potential 70 degree weather. We are going to bake and do crafts and wait for santa to come. So much more going on than worrying. Hundreds more smiles than tears.