We have a giant sunflower in our garden that grows so fast that when I check it in the morning after not seeing it for twenty-four hours, the stalk seems to have gained three inches. Right now, watching Mateo develop feels like that. Seemingly overnight, he knows the letters in the alphabet, can count to 100, and, when urged, can brush and floss his own teeth. One day he can’t buckle himself into his car seat; the next, he’s hopping into his booster and secured while I’m still fumbling in my purse for my keys.
Yesterday, Mateo achieved another milestone: He graduated from preschool. As he marched up to the microphone to introduce the ceremony with his one line—“We hope you enjoy it!”—I couldn’t believe he was the same little guy enrolled in remedial speech class for a year. Later, as he ran across the stage to receive his diploma, I saw no signs of the timid toddler who once clung to my side.
The photo here is of us with his teacher in the “Cheetah class,” Ms. Sveta. We’re grateful to her and all of Mateo’s teachers and school administrators for their love and dedication. In just a few short months, Mateo will begin kindergarten. I know my son is ready.
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On Sunday, for the first time, Olivia rode a pink, two-wheeled bicycle. This weekend we celebrated her eighth birthday, and she asked for the bike as a gift. Up until now, my daughter had tooled around on a smaller bicycle fitted with training wheels, showing no interest in riding without them. But Sunday after lunch, she announced she was ready to graduate. Tim took Olivia to our local bike shop so she could choose the spiffiest model. When they returned, Olivia showed off the bike’s features: knobby white tires, a handy kickstand, and pairs of reflectors on the spokes. 
