Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Anticipation


Tomorrow is a big day. Your first dance class.  Your dance bag is all packed. You asked me if I was sure I packed everything. I am - I checked twice.  I watched you "practice" earlier tonight. Pointing your toes, standing on your toes and imitating "pointe."  We called Daddy on the way home from school and you told him how excited you are about class tomorrow, "It's going to be o.k. Alana is going to be there and lots of new girls too. I wish everyone could be there. All of my cousins."  The smile on your face tonight when I tucked you into bed tonight was huge, contagious, infectious.  I walked away wondering if you're thinking about being on stage - twirling.

I am just as excited. There is something about taking you - my daughter - to do something that I once did as a child.  When you dream about being a mom and having a little girl,  these are the little moments that you anticipate. 

I'm fairly certain tomorrow I'll be the Mom standing outside of the class, watching you through the observation window, all teary eyed and choked up. I'll be wondering for the 3,492 time how I ended up so lucky.   At 3 years old you are funny and silly, and smart.  You give "yuckies" to Daddy and wear dresses to school everyday.  You say the funniest things both intentionally and unintentionally.  You love to draw and color and read and swing.  You give the best hugs known to man and you never leave me that you don't ask for 3 kisses and three hugs, but then slip in about 6 extra kisses on the sly.  You are kind and courteous and thoughtful.  You love asparagus and steak and strawberries.  Your laughter is contagious and often what turns my day around.  You are strong willed, determined and a rule follower - unless you "don't want to." You talk with your hands when you are angry, upset or just generally excited. You have the memory of an elephant and often remind me of something I said months ago.  Watching your little personality take shape is one of my greatest joys.  You are precious and somehow you belong to me. 

Tomorrow I hope that you will twirl and point, smile and giggle, and drink in all those new steps and friends. I hope you get so caught up in the moment that you forget that I'm even there, but I will be. All teary eyed and choked up, still trying to figure out how I ended up so lucky.  

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