Well, here we are, my dear — fourth grade! You’ve transformed into this incredible mix of limbs and laughter, and let’s be honest, your independence is both impressive and a little terrifying. I mean, you’ve been strutting out the door to school solo since you were just 6 years old! And yes, some days, you take on the role of big sister with more skill than I do.
It’s a little absurd that I’m still surprised by how amazing you are. I shouldn’t be so caught off guard by the challenges that come with parenting either, but here I am. I’m amazed by your brilliance and wrestling with my own shortcomings in raising you. It’s a wild ride, realizing how much I’ve learned from you, even in your baby days. You showed me how to nourish not just you, but myself, how to be loving, and how to find joy in the chaos of life.
I used to write to you often, capturing those fleeting moments, but as you’ve grown and I’ve gotten busy, those letters have all but vanished. I miss that connection. When I take the time to reflect on you and your journey — your joys, struggles, and quirks — I feel closer to you.
Now, I find myself balancing your need for privacy with my desire to stay in tune with your growth. There’s something powerful in documenting our journey together, like leaving breadcrumbs for us to follow back to those simpler times. But lately, I’ve noticed a distance forming between us, and I want to address it.
Watching you grow is exhilarating and terrifying all at once. I sometimes shield myself from the wonder that you are, which I didn’t even realize I was doing. None of us are perfect, especially not in our relationships. We’re human — messy, complicated, and often overwhelmed by our pasts.
You were my first true love, and the intensity of that bond doesn’t erase my learning curve as a parent. As you step into your tween years, I see you cartwheeling through life while I often feel weighed down by worries. Yet, on the good days, I take a moment to just watch you — to soak in the essence of who you are and all the joy you bring into our lives.
Some days, I consciously commit to memory the sight of you, reminding my heart to stay open to you. But I admit, I sometimes get stuck, caught up in the demands of my day-to-day, and I end up closing myself off. I miss you during those moments, especially now that you’re so capable and don’t need me in the same way. You’re more than okay; you’re thriving. Yet that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be there for you, ready and willing to connect.
As you and your sister grow, I find myself cherishing more alone time, sometimes choosing solitude over connection. This space between us is both a relief and a heartbreak. It’s a balancing act I’m learning to navigate. I don’t want to close that gap; I want to embrace the moments we can share — to be helpful, open, and present.
I desire more of those precious connections with you, my child — the one who has shaped me as much as I’ve shaped you. You see me, you propel me, and you love me unconditionally, even when I falter.
So, here we are, doing this life together, trying to show up for one another. I strive to reconnect with you more deeply, to lean in even when you lean out. Now is not the time for hesitation; today is about a simple trip to the grocery store, sharing a caramel steamer and Americano. It’s about embracing the change, growth, and opportunities to bond, even amidst the chaos.
I’m committed to staying honest, open, and engaged in this beautiful, messy journey of motherhood with you.