September 8

Tomorrow, Brady begins his third and final year of preschool. I haven't given it much thought yet, probably because when I do, I'll probably cry, and I don't really have the energy to have a proper emotional meltdown at the moment. (But I'll get around to it. The joys of parenthood, huh? Compartmentalization at its best.)

Anyhow, I asked him what he wanted to do this morning to observe his last last-day-before-preschool, and he said he wanted to go to a new park. So that's what we did.

I followed him as he ran from one piece of equipment to the next, climbing ladders and scaling nets and swinging on a giant hammock and whooshing down slides.

At one point, he cautiously wormed his way through this little structure. As he neared the top level, he turned to me and flashed a brilliant grin.

It was warm outside --the second day in what's expected to be the most significant heat wave of the year, in fact-- but I loved watching him do his thing, beautifully embracing the freedom and innocence given to him by God.