Emma, I can hardly believe that I’m writing this, but you are nine years old today.
This photo says it all. You are tall and confident. Friendly and generous. You have your own sense of the world and I love that about you.
– you are a wonderful caregiver. I’m already singing your praises to potential babysitting customers. I’m not sure if you know this, but you’ve always had great leadership skills. Even when you were in preschool, at two years old, you’d be the one showing the new kids around or comforting someone if they were sad. You’re a natural shepherd, and anyone younger is naturally in your flock (whether they like it or not, unfortunately.)
– you are turning out to be a great swimmer. You love to read. You love being outdoors. All of these things are shadowy reflections of my own self. And that amazes me. How much of you is you, and how much of you is me? I’m still wondering how it all works.
– you have a can-do attitude and are so confident about conquering certain things, like swimming, and stilt-walking, and reading. Math? Not so much.
What does it feel like to be nine? I tried asking you about it last night but wasn’t able to get a straight answer.
I’ll tell you. You are changing, and finding out more about yourself and about the world around you. You’re still very much a little girl, but there’s a bigger girl inside of you who is eager to get on with it already. I don’t want to rush it. I love you very much the way you are, but I can’t wait to see where it goes from here.
Love,
Mumma
