Dear Anessa,

Dear Anessa,

Dear Anessa, 

I am writing you this letter after dropping you off for your first day of kindergarten. You were so excited to go to a new school and to meet new friends. I was excited to get you out of the house again for six hours a day. Or I thought I was, because now I am sitting in my office and it is so very quiet, and I miss you.

You’ve attended full day preschool, so the length of time you’re away from home is not new, but kindergarten is big in ways I hadn’t full grasped until today. It’s the bigger school and the bigger kids. It’s the larger class sizes and the broader lessons. Preschool was safe, you were protected by innocence. Elementary school will be different. It needs to be different because you are growing and learning and exploring.

But as you are doing all of that, I want you to always remember who you are. It is so easy to forget, to feel the need to be like someone else. We mold and contort to socially survive and then one day we wake up an adult and try to remember who we were before the world colored inside our lines.

I can’t tell you how you see yourself right now, only you know that, but I can tell you about the little girl that I see and love. I hope that someday these words may help you find your way back to your five-year-old self when you need her most. And trust me, you will need her.

I am inspired by your creativity and how you will use any medium available to you. From the countless drawings, paintings and collages covering our fridge, to the songs you sing, to the dances you make up. From the stories you tell, to your daily outfits, to the dresses you design for your dolls. You are happiest with a brush of one kind or another in one hand and a glue stick in the other. Your mind and imagination are all at once endless and brilliant.

I admire the way you enjoy taking care of people. Whether you are blowing on my coffee to make sure it’s not too hot or covering me with a blanket when I lay down on the couch for a quick rest. Bringing others comfort makes you happy and right now, you seem to be able to strike a balance between your comfort and others. Though, this will likely get harder as you get older.

I love the way you are willing to try anything be it a new food or activity. And the way you are always eager to make new friends. I hope you never stop walking up to people, introducing yourself, and asking if they would like to play. You are so fun to be around and braver than you realize. You are my sunshine.

You have grown so much already in the nearly three years you have been a part of our family. I have watched as you’ve slowly relinquished bits of control in favor of trust. I have seen the transformation as you have learned to calculate risk and reward while never losing the fire inside you that tempts you to test boundaries.

As you get older it will be harder to tell the difference between the limits set for your safety, and those set to keep you in your place. You will need that fire to test, push and determine their purpose. Just maybe reserve the more aggressive testing and pushing for when you’ve moved out of our house.

Above all else, remember that you are loved, you are valued, and in our home, you are always safe.

I love you my big, beautiful, kindergartner. Now, go take the world by storm and if you ever forget who you are, I’ll be waiting with open arms to remind you.

Love,

Mommy

Image Description: Photo of a little girl, taken from behind as she walks along a neighborhood sidewalk. She is wearing a paper crown on her head, pink skirt, t-shirt, sneakers, and has a large purple backpack.

I do not think that means what you think it means...

I do not think that means what you think it means...

Finding peace (where I least expected it)

Finding peace (where I least expected it)