We are in the process of applying to preschools. This is not a fun activity. Each preschool has different requirements and some of them are a little crazy. Like, four page applications, character assessments from friends and teachers, school visits so the school can get to know your kid etc. It's crazy. Of course you have to apply to more than one and jump through all the hoops presented by each one. We are planning on applying to three and hope to get into two so we have a choice.
On the first application I asked Jason to answer the questions and had to hold back the tears when reading what he wrote. I have always loved the way Jason writes and enjoy reading his work but when it's about our sweet little boy, I love it even more. I thought I would share.
Jason's thoughts:
Calder is rarely far from a book. His days often start with one of his
parents reading a book while he eats breakfast, and his days always end
with several books while he relaxes and prepares for bed. On a bright,
sunny day, Calder can spend an entire afternoon lying in the sun looking
for Waldo or exploring In the Town All Year Round.
When he sets the books down, Calder loves to spend his time engrossed in imagination play. Many speeding drivers are pulled over by diligent police officers each day, and our couch often doubles as a garbage truck. A menagerie of cows, donkeys, lions, dragons, and dogs--all of whom look surprisingly like a three-year-old boy to the untrained eye--pass through the living room each week.
Each afternoon, Calder spends an hour of "quiet time" in his room. He uses that time to create amazing lego structures that stretch towards the sky. And his musical performances with his drum, harmonica, and accordion make "quiet time" a misnomer. A sweet, if less-than-pitch-perfect voice, echoes through the house as Calder sings his favorite songs from church and those we sing each evening before he goes to sleep.
Calder does not spend all of his days indoors. During the summers, he loves to kick his way around the public pool or shout "here I come!" before leaping into the pool (and usually his parents' arms). In the winter, you will often find Calder at the Wheaton Ice Arena chasing other children around the rink and counting down the minutes until the Zamboni takes the ice. And every day is a perfect day in Calder's mind to circle the block on his balance bike or race his parents to the corner while laughing uncontrollably.
Calder has always been a surprisingly observant child. As soon as he started talking, he started pointing out objects that excited him while riding in his car seat. Often we could not see the dumpster, trash can, or sign Calder asked about. But we quickly learned not to doubt Calder. If we looked hard enough, we would often seen the dumpster or trash can tucked into a barely visible alley across the street.
His keen sense of observation is matched only by his sweetness towards others. He recently learned his mother is pregnant, and ever since he has jealously guarded her sleep. No longer insistent that she wake up from a weekend nap the second quiet time ends, Calder now attempts to talk his father out of any effort to wake his mother up. The happiness of his months-from-birth sibling has also become his central concern. Every decision has to account for whether it would make "the baby" happy. Calder's compassion extends beyond the happiness of pregnant women and babies. He frequently consoles friends at church who suffer from separation anxiety when their parents drop them off at Sunday School. And Calder often thinks about the needs of others, rather than himself, while shopping at the store. Last month, for example, he insisted on buying a scarf for his father after seeing one at the store and realizing his father did not have one.
That sweetness towards others reflects Calder's most important attribute: He is almost always smiling and happy. We cannot think of anyone else we would rather have with us to brighten our days. We hope that, after you get to know Calder, your teachers and staff will feel the same way.
When he sets the books down, Calder loves to spend his time engrossed in imagination play. Many speeding drivers are pulled over by diligent police officers each day, and our couch often doubles as a garbage truck. A menagerie of cows, donkeys, lions, dragons, and dogs--all of whom look surprisingly like a three-year-old boy to the untrained eye--pass through the living room each week.
Each afternoon, Calder spends an hour of "quiet time" in his room. He uses that time to create amazing lego structures that stretch towards the sky. And his musical performances with his drum, harmonica, and accordion make "quiet time" a misnomer. A sweet, if less-than-pitch-perfect voice, echoes through the house as Calder sings his favorite songs from church and those we sing each evening before he goes to sleep.
Calder does not spend all of his days indoors. During the summers, he loves to kick his way around the public pool or shout "here I come!" before leaping into the pool (and usually his parents' arms). In the winter, you will often find Calder at the Wheaton Ice Arena chasing other children around the rink and counting down the minutes until the Zamboni takes the ice. And every day is a perfect day in Calder's mind to circle the block on his balance bike or race his parents to the corner while laughing uncontrollably.
Calder has always been a surprisingly observant child. As soon as he started talking, he started pointing out objects that excited him while riding in his car seat. Often we could not see the dumpster, trash can, or sign Calder asked about. But we quickly learned not to doubt Calder. If we looked hard enough, we would often seen the dumpster or trash can tucked into a barely visible alley across the street.
His keen sense of observation is matched only by his sweetness towards others. He recently learned his mother is pregnant, and ever since he has jealously guarded her sleep. No longer insistent that she wake up from a weekend nap the second quiet time ends, Calder now attempts to talk his father out of any effort to wake his mother up. The happiness of his months-from-birth sibling has also become his central concern. Every decision has to account for whether it would make "the baby" happy. Calder's compassion extends beyond the happiness of pregnant women and babies. He frequently consoles friends at church who suffer from separation anxiety when their parents drop them off at Sunday School. And Calder often thinks about the needs of others, rather than himself, while shopping at the store. Last month, for example, he insisted on buying a scarf for his father after seeing one at the store and realizing his father did not have one.
That sweetness towards others reflects Calder's most important attribute: He is almost always smiling and happy. We cannot think of anyone else we would rather have with us to brighten our days. We hope that, after you get to know Calder, your teachers and staff will feel the same way.
2 comments:
beautiful. jason should do this annually! what a treasure! now poor mr j is going to have to do it for our girls. i'm not stellar at keeping a journal of their childhood and progress (thus our blog), but a sweet note like this every year for their birthday from their parents...now that's a gift worth receiving!
Thank you for sharing that, Cami. Jason does have a poet's soul and he described Calder to a "T".
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