OK, maybe my title is a bit exaggerated, but, seriously, can summer just get here already?  My 9-year-old third grader is not the third grader I was in 1986.  Truthfully, I am secretly happy that he isn’t.  He doesn’t call friends to check over homework.  He didn’t make a New Year’s resolution to stop worrying so much.  He doesn’t get upset if he makes less than 100% on any given test.  On the flip side, he hates homework and makes this time of evening pretty miserable for everyone.  He says he doesn’t care if he ever learns all of his multiplication facts.  And he isn’t mortified if the teacher calls him out for not paying attention in class.  Instead, he only feels “kinda bad.”

This year,  Cade went from having a single teacher to rotating among three teachers, as well as computer lab, library, and PE, each day.  To me, it was a big jump for a third grader.  During the first week of school, I quickly realized that much more would be expected of him.  And for the kid who still puts his clothes on backwards sometimes, I knew it would be stressful.

Regardless, Cade is doing well in school.  He has made the Honor Roll all year and does well on his tests.  He loves, loves to read (I guess he does take after me a little) and thrives in the Accelerated Reading program.  Despite his apparent lack of self-motivation, I don’t truly worry about him academically.  Socially, however, is a different story.

The “social game” is the main reason we all haven’t enjoyed third grade as much as previous years.  This week alone, for example, Cade has been called “gay” for hugging a friend and a “fu*ker” by someone he once considered a good friend.  These are words that didn’t exist in his vocabulary only a few months ago.  Because he isn’t being drafted by NFL scouts, the “cool boys” don’t allow him to play football on the playground.  Instead, he pretends to be the cameraman.  When he choked back the tears and told me this, I praised him for being so creative and resourceful.  Inside, my heart was breaking.

In kindergarten, Cade had Cameron, his absolute best friend.  After that, we moved to a much larger school district in a different state.  He has friends, but not that true buddy he needs to get him through each week and to give him confidence that someone always has his back.  To be clear, I do not blame the school or even all the other kids.  Cade often waits for someone to want to be his friend.  We have recently talked a lot about finding the kid who NEEDS a friend.  The world doesn’t revolve around us . . . Focus on what someone else needs, and you might find what you need . . . But, at the moment, Cade seems content to navigate the world fairly independently.  And that makes me a little sad.

We started the year in Children’s Place, and just yesterday he refused a Lego shirt for an Under Armour.  Early in the year, he asked that I no longer put notes in his lunchbox.  We now have two school parties a year, 30 minutes in length, and hardly have time to play a game.  I realize that growing up is inevitable, but it is also hard.  I want him to be a kid a little longer.  I don’t want him to have to worry about clothes and cliques.  I would do it all over again for him if I could.

Today my firstborn niece turns 20.  I know that my sister had these very same thoughts about her as she was growing up.  Abbey was once a quiet, shy, and often sad girl.  Today she thrives in college and is happier than I’ve ever seen her.  I know, too, that the past 20 years went by in the blink of an eye, but in the moments of sadness and insecurity, they seemed like they would last forever.

Each week of third grade, reality sets in a bit more.  Cade is becoming a young man and will face all of the issues that young people face in today’s world.  This is why I pray over him each night and relish in those moments he’s truly happy and giggling until his sides hurt.  I think of the song, “Let Them Be Little”:   “Let them be little / for they’re only that way for awhile.”  It is so true and so heartbreaking at the same time.