You were six months old and full of fun,
With a blink of my eye, you were suddenly one.
There were so many things we were going to do,
but I turned my head and you turned two.
At two, you were very dependent on me,
but independence took over when you turned three.
Your third birthday; another year I tried to ignore,
but when I lit the candles, there weren't three, but four.
Four was the year that you really strived.
Why, look at you now, you're already five.
Now you are ready for books and for rules.
This is the year you go to school.
The big day came, you were anxious to go.
We walked to the bus going oh, so slow.
As you climbed aboard and waved good-bye,
I felt a lump in my throat and tears stung my eyes.
Time goes so fast it's hard to believe
that just yesterday you were home here with me.
And tomorrow when the bus brings you home
and you jump to the ground
you'll be wearing your cap and graduation gown.
So I'm holding to these moments as hard as I can,
because the next time I look, I'll be seeing a man.