Summer is (unofficially) over. AB is back in school. New teacher. New
babysitter. New backpack. New kicks. In the mornings when I do her hair,
she watches
The Electric Company instead of
Sesame Street.
There is no hassle at the door with shoes because she can tie them
herself. At drop-off, instead of walking her to her classroom door she
requests that we say our goodbyes about 10 feet away from where her
classmates line up because she's a "big girl" now and can go by herself.
This morning she said to me with a huge grin, "Aren't you glad that your child is growing up?" (I kid you not.)
Yes....and no.
It
is rather incredible to see her able to do all this new things without
my help. It makes me feel like I'm doing a pretty good job at this
parenting thing. But at the same time, there is a slight sadness that
she doesn't need me to help her do these things anymore. Then I see how
excited she is about everything, and the sadness disappears.
As I watched her confidently walk away from me this morning, I had a
moment where I thought, there is no going back.
Look out, world, Miss
Independent is coming through.
She has been the queen of optimism, while I try to maintain good cheer as I realize that running alongside your newbie cyclist is the mother of all core workouts. After one particularly good run, she grinned at me and said:
