Big J, little J

I wish I had a picture of J to place here - a picture of her as she walked away from me this morning. As she headed toward the bus I could see her pride of independence vibrating in every fiber of her little being. I say 'little', but that's not entirely accurate any longer.

Her pride stems from the accomplishment of making me give her my last hug of the morning as she gets out of the car. You know, as opposed to after I have walked her down the hill and across the street, right before letting her climb the stairs onto the bus. How embarrassing! It has taken her until the week before St. Patty's Day to practically mold me into one of those mothers who wave distantly without getting out of the car. Maybe her goal of world domination by summer vacation can be reached after all. Don't let the bunny fool you.


But this is the girl who sings along with me at bedtime, substituting her pet name for me (Moomer [don't ask why - I have no idea]) for all the words of all our songs. And every time I empty her daily folder, piles of little drawings dedicated to me fall out. There I am in a polka-dotted dress holding a cup of coffee. (Strangely, there is also a duck at my side.) There is a heart-shaped scrap of paper that says, "I [heart] Mom". There is an elaborate card with drawings of rainbows, suns, and the ubiquitous peace symbol, and it reads, "To Mommy, Love Juliet."


Her handwriting, however, is no longer shaky. It is practiced and confident. She tells me stories of events at school with adult insights.

"Kalani was being fussy about me sitting next to her, and wouldn't stop talking about it. I got very mad, because I tried to make her stop but she wouldn't listen. But then, Laney - being the nice girl that she is - said, 'Let's change the subject.' And Kalani and I were happy after that!" (Read that with lots of hand gestures and exaggerated facial expressions. No, I have no idea where she gets it.)

She uses phrases like, "By the way," in context and with the right intonation, but will follow it up with, "By the way, I like saying 'by the way'!" And then will fall over laughing.

She still needs me at her side before approaching a group of friends, feeling insecure that she won't be welcomed. Once welcomed, though, she wants nothing to do with me. I can't smile or wave or even wiggle my eyebrows in her general direction. The nerve.

She brushes her own teeth morning and night, and takes showers instead of baths, but still wants me to put her lavender lotion on.

Yes, this is all spot-on developmentally, and I am sorry to be such a sentimental sap, but holy schnockers. I mean, no one told me that the everyday smiles and looks and songs would crawl into my heart and hug it in much the same ways as the monumental milestones of parenthood. No one warned me that a sparkly-eyed little girl would bring me to my knees with happiness even as she walks away from me. I really could not have prepared myself anyway. These are the kinds of surprises I can live with...