Today, Mrs. Revis and I went up to school with Baby E to meet her kindergarten teacher. She starts classes on Thursday.
My baby girl is five years old now. She’s about to start school. It seems like only a few weeks ago that we were driving her home from the hospital, going incredibly slow because we were freaking out.
Now she has her own little personality. She has friends at school already (that she went to preschool with last year). Every time she saw one tonight, they would holler each other’s name and hug each other. Her best friend from preschool last year (a little boy who loves Elvis) ended up in her class and she was so excited.
Every night, she wants me to tell her a story. Even though she’s got dozens of books, she doesn’t want me to read to her. She wants me to make one up on the spot for her. When I get done, she’ll either give me a thumbs up or thumbs down. Tonight’s story was about a butterfly who got stuck in a spider web, but was able to escape before the spider got it. She gave me the thumbs down because “it’s not real”. I told her that a butterfly could, in fact, get caught in a spider web and then she started crying because “it was real”.
She got her ears pierced a few weeks ago. We warned her beforehand that it would hurt when they did it, but she said she didn’t care….until they did it. Then it was a slow burn. For the first few seconds, she didn’t do anything. The tears came slowly after that, until she buried her face into a stuffed animal they let her hold and bawled uncontrollably. Unfortunately, I was at work when my wife took her to get this done. While I watched the video, I wanted to reach into the phone, pick her up, and comfort her.
She’s got glasses now, too. They noticed she wasn’t seeing everything the way she should when my wife took her in for her five-year-old checkup. When she wears them, she looks even older.
Like all parents, I’m wondering where the time has gone. She used to be a tiny little thing. Now she’s a kindergartener. She used to need me to do everything for her. Now she doesn’t want me to do anything for her. She wants to do it herself.
She’s growing up.
I don’t want it to stop. I just want it to slow down just a little.