The rain was coming down in a drizzle and we were enjoying a nice quiet Saturday morning. She had asked if school was today and was disappointed that it was the weekend. She loved school so far and wanted to go everyday.
We were expecting my parents for coffee but weren’t ready to get out of our PJs so instead of getting dressed we cuddled in the big brown chair we’ve had since she was a baby, watched a show on netflix, and talked about her days at school.
“A boy told me sucking my thumb was yucky.”
She had told me this on Friday after school and didn’t seem bothered by it but did mention she had cried. Now she was bringing it up again and with a sadness in her voice.
“How do you feel about this?”
She grabbed a piece of my hair, comfort for her, and looked at me from under her eyelashes.
“Fine. I cried but then I stopped myself.”
My strong girl.
School wouldn’t always be easy, there would be new challenges she would have to face on her own and I couldn’t be there to save her, I would have to give her the tools to get through the difficult moments and she would have to execute them herself.
I hugged her tight.
Just then we heard a knock, then the door bell.
My parents, eager to come in, called out for my daughter to go to the door, they had a surprise for her.
She flew to the door to see what was outside.
My parents had both put hard work into building her a playhouse.
She danced around the gift with excitement!
Just what the doctor ordered.
It wasn’t long before it was off the trailer, in our backyard, and full of the neighbours kids.
She’s gone from a pre-schooler to a independent, carefree, JK. She’s grown taller, more outgoing (if that’s possible), and has such an amazing personality.
And I am bursting with pride.