Yesterday the sun showed up in the dead of February cold and I watched you run down our sidewalk chasing your friends’ laughs. I see those legs are lankier now and your stride is quicker. Your 25 pound frame is carrying a lot of pride on its shoulders these days and independence is all good with you. You’re wearing your three years well, Emmy-doing your own thing with classmates and teachers and mommy’s learning to let go a little bit at a time.
You spend your morning hours away from us and it is blowing my mind thinking of you in the great big world beyond my arms. You walk down the big kid hallways and have your own seat on the bus. You mingle with kindergarteners and play in the gym. You use scissors and hole punches, paint brushes and glue and I think you know more people than any of us did when we were three. You’ve become a little famous, little girl.
I’m learning that the big deal things of yesterday aren’t always such big deal things today. The things I thought were scary are proving you brave and the things I thought were “never” are now “of course!”. The things I thought would be so hard are the exact things that make me sure of myself and you. You make it all seem like it’s nothing big, Em with your newfound courage and your winsome grin.
I’m so proud to call you mine and always so grateful for the things you show us and the light that you bring. Great job, Emmy or “high five” as you like to say. High fives for being amazing and beginning to make your way. We’re still here watching, shaking our heads at the goodness of it all.
Love to you,