An Open Letter to Milly

So.  Here we are again.  For me - round 2.  For you - the brand new chapter.  I've been here before - and so this time things aren't quite as intense for me, quite as scary, quite as new.  Things are much more mundane, and wrote.  The drop offs, the pick ups, the classroom schedules, the staff, the homework, the folders, the lunches, the rules.  And I can't help but wonder as I'm working on getting both you and your sister out the door and off to your first days - if you're getting shortchanged?  I often feel this way about you.  Everything with your sister was a true FIRST.  It was new, and novel, and sometimes scary (even for mom and dad).  But with you, even when we want things to be special, we have another little person to consider who is off and going in another direction.  There is precious little chance to give you 100% of our full attention.

Of course with that comes some good things too.  Nothing probably seems quite as scary to you, because sister did it, and lived to tell the tale.  Nothing seems quite so lonely to you, because sister will be there ready to swoop in and help out.  And again I wonder:  does this help to make you who you are?  My little leader, my fearless one, my laid back kid who isn't really afraid of much?  Probably some.

But you are your own person.  In your own time and your own way.  You and your sister are very different people.  And so from that sense, I fear that of all the lessons I've learned, few will grant me wisdom to help you out.  In a way, the "new" will come to us both while looking through the lens of your constitution.

So, in keeping true to our family dynamic, the morning was a cacophony of "do you have ____" and "did you remember _____", and "what do you need for ______" hollered throughout the house.  When we finally got out the door we were a little more harried than the last time I made this fateful trip.  But, again, in keeping with our family, sister took you by the hand and told you "Don't worry Milly, I'll tell you where you need to go and I'll be waiting for you after school".  And in true Milly fashion, you bopped up the walk anxious to get to the next "new" thing - to make new friends, fall in love with your new teacher, learn new skills,

We arrived early enough that you and sister had to go to the gym instead of directly to your classrooms.  I worried that all the chaos within would break your slightly frayed nerves when I looked down at your face and saw that look - the one where you were smiling but with the corners of your mouth turned down ever so slightly - indication that the smallest thing could put you over the edge to tears.  I let sister walk you in, and then I waited.  After a few minutes I carefully peered into the gym and found you.  You gave me a smile and a wave. I blew you a kiss.  And that was that.  You were off and running with friends, both old and new.

This has been your way since the day you joined our little family.  Full speed ahead, no fear, laughing all the way.  I hope kindergarten lives up to your dreams. I hope that smile is on your face way more often than tears on your cheeks. I hope you get time to shine and feel special.  In a nutshell, I hope you continue to discover, develop, and display YOU.  Because by nature or nurture (or a healthy combination of both), you're wonderful.  Just like your sister before you.  But you're your own "you" - and I can't wait to watch you fly.

Love, Mom.