For Emma

Dear Emma,

You just finished your fourth week of pre-kindergarten and you love it. I always knew you would, but you have exceeded even my expectations of how well you would make the transition. I suppose after four years of playing with the same person day after day (me) you were ready for the change. We both were.

You seem so grown up. Many days, you get yourself dressed and brush your hair and teeth without anyone telling you to. You make sure your backpack is unloaded of yesterday’s papers and you never forget to grab it on your way out the door.

When we get to school each day, you give Katelynn and me kisses and hugs, put your backpack on, and let yourself out of the car. Halfway to the school’s front door, you turn and wave. Sometimes you blow a kiss too.

Last Monday after you blew kisses, I gave you the hand-sign for “I Love You.” You looked at your hand and wiggled your fingers until you figured out how to give it back to me. So, we started doing that everyday too. During the car ride Friday, you finally asked me what the sign means. (I thought you knew!) After I explained it, you made the sign but then pulled your thumb in and asked if that meant “Rock On.” Try not to pay so much attention to your brother, okay?

You tell me stories about learning and playing with the other kids in your class, and when you tell me their names, you always say “my friend” first. You have a lot of friends. A couple of times, you have told me that one of the kids is your “friend again.” Apparently, sometimes arguments over Crayola colors and monkey bar positions come between four-year-old girls, but all is forgiven by the next day.

When I dropped you off today, you saw a little blond girl walking in with her mother. You yelled, “Allie,” and ran towards her. As you got close, both of you stretched out your arms and grasped hands. Allie’s mom stopped where she was, and we both watched as the two of you disappeared into the school, hand in hand. It was such a bittersweet moment.

Up to now, it’s been my hand you reached for as you navigated new or scary territory. My hand that pushed the hair out of your eyes when you fell and scraped a knee. My hand that patted your back when you did something wonderful. My hand that boosted you to the things you couldn’t reach.

As you grow up, I hope you keep your enthusiasm for school and learning. And I hope you keep your enjoyment of spending time with friends, new and old. As you grow up, I will always be there clapping, cheering, crying, laughing, tickling, helping, teaching, and guiding you. I will be there to give you a hand whenever you might need one. And to give you the “I Love You” sign.

All my love,

Mommy