Friday, August 1, 2014
I know I've been writing about motherhood a lot lately.
Maybe it's because I am a mom and it's my number one job.
But most likely it's the nostalgia.
The fact that in twenty short days she starts kindergarten.
When did this happen?
I've been looking at her baby pictures the past few days. I've been assuring myself that this is normal.
Yes. It's definitely normal. It has to be.
And tonight she surprised me by glancing through her baby albums with me. She flipped through the pages a little too quickly and chattered constantly as she was situated next to me in her multi-colored tutu with her tiara perched perfectly on her head.
Because even in the moments when she is begging me to slow down, she still manages to go 100 mph.
We looked. She talked.
I remembered. She was introduced.
She asked a thousand questions, and I gave her a thousand answers.
She saw the little dresses, the headbands, the toys, and the blankies before they were so loved and tattered around the edges.
I saw the silly grins, the little reddish curls, the orneriness in her eyes, and the things about her that will never change: the personality that she has had from day one, her caring heart, and her empathetic nature.
She has the best and the worst of her daddy and I inside of her.
She is our daughter.
Through and through.
And even though I am struggling fiercely with this whole growing up and leaving me for kindergarten thing, I know that fact will never change.
She will always be my daughter.
The little princess in the tutu going 100 mph will always be there even when she has to be tucked deep down inside of the woman she is becoming.