I never dreamed six years ago that I would be doing some of the things that I'm doing now.
Like signing up my first and only child for preschool.
How could my heart could become so enwebbed (is that a word?) in someone that I would be loath to share her with the world-- in any way shape or form?
When I look at my daughter, I see this child who is precious in her innocence. An innocence that I want to preserve all of her days. Impossible, I know, but still...
Until now, her exposure has been limited to the nucleus of the three of us predominately. Now, I must open up her world and allow others to influence and teach her. These are good things, I know, but in my selfishness, I want to keep her all to myself. She's too precious and special--will others know this? Will they protect her innocence as fiercely as I want to? Probably not and that's what scares me a little.
I know that when our children are born to us we are to begin letting go even as they are given to us. But how do I let go of someone who has become such a part of me?
It's bittersweet to watch her grow up. While I rejoice in each new ability she acquires and boast of her abilities, I also grieve over the fact that she loses a bit of her baby-ishness. That little chubby faced toddler, pointing and jabbering her own language. The baby who nestled at my breast her compact weight making a perfect bundle to snuggle.
All of these thoughts and emotions tumbled through my heart yesterday as I drove home.
Makes me think my girl isn't the only one growing up.