A love letter, of sorts...

My sweet girl,

Next Wednesday, you will start attending preschool all week long. That's five days a week of 9 to 2 p.m. And, that also means that, in just a year, you will be getting on the big kid school bus you talk so much about and riding away from me every day off to Kindergarten. So, because I like to get a jump on emotional breakdowns whenever possible, I'm writing you this letter tonight. It is a love letter of sorts and also a declaration of a mother who is realizing time is flying by entirely too fast for her now.

When we made the decision to put you in five-day-a-week preschool, something that had never occurred to me actually, it seemed so logical. You are so very ready. For the past two years, you have asked me on your non-school days if you are going to school that day. You want to go. You thrive there. For some moms, this might make them feel slighted or less important in the eyes of their child. But, it has never bothered me. I bask in your enthusiasm and marvel at your quick little brain and can't wait to see what you do with it as you grow up.

So, it made sense, given what all has been going on around here and also the amount of work that looms waiting for me if only I had the time to commit to it. And, while you would not understand this now, I hope one day you will know that it really was the best time for this to happen for your mom, mentally speaking. Being a work-a-holic turned stay-at-home mom has been a battle for me for the past eight years.

It is not that I don't thank God every day for this time I am blessed at home with you and your brother. It is time that I know so many others do not have the fortune to enjoy. It's just that a big piece of me disappeared when I left my career behind. A piece that I have battled to get back through part-time work, crazy career shifts, and strange spurts of domestication that don't seem quite natural for me.

Being your Mom feels easy. Giving you a hug and a kiss every night and coloring in your books with you, that suits me well. But, giving up a part of myself that gave me security and self-worth was very hard. I never quite fully adjusted as I should have. And in my uncomfortable new skin, a new person came out of me that I didn't know existed. Moody and unpredictable, angry at something that I can't quite define, it is not someone I look in the mirror and embrace.

I am a good mother. There are times I question that, as every mother does, but in my heart I know it to be true. I could not love another two children more than I do you and your brother. And, while I make mistakes, I pray most nights that the things that I do well with you all will make a positive impact in your life and the mistakes won't make a difference.

So, this sudden choice, to put you in school looks good on paper all the way around for us. It's what I need. It is what you need. It is a win-win.

There is just one problem. My heart is breaking with every click of the clock towards that day. You see, my sweet girl, the four years that I have had with you have been such a delight to me. There are so many reasons why that I have trouble even explaining it, but I will try.

I love how every night you tell me exactly what you want for breakfast in the morning and you remember that first thing when you wake up and instruct me again.

I love how you randomly will tell me how much you love me, for no reason at all.

I love how if I get frustrated or say a cross word to you, you crumble into a million pieces of drama.

I love how seconds later when I hug you and tell you I love you, you bounce up and run around as if there was never a tear shed, and all is forgotten to you.

I love to listen to you play with your princesses in the dollhouse and how you can make up stories and entertain yourself forever.

I also love how you are always wanting me to play with you, color with you, dance with you, any time I am willing to do so.

I love that you like to go grocery shopping and you are my little grocery list, spouting off what we need as we go down the aisles.

I could go on and on my little cha-cha, and that's the truth.

When I found out I was having a little girl, I have to admit to you that I was scared. I really didn't know if I could handle little girl issues. I was broken into being a mom of a son and I was getting quite comfortable with that. What would I do with little hair bows and baby dolls? How would I handle the big things later on like crushes, periods, and dating?

You see, I have never thought of myself as a girly girl. And, for some reason, from the minute you were born I knew that you were one. And, how on earth was I going to be able to work with that, I wondered?

But, something happened along the way. You just completely melted my heart and dazzled me with your brilliance and beauty, the way you do most people when they meet you. It is not unusual for me to be approached by your teachers, your friend's mothers, and other people who cross your path and hear so many complements about your happy nature that I blush and beam with pride.

So, next Wednesday when I walk you to preschool, please don't misunderstand if you see my tears. I am so very happy for you and proud of how you are growing up. And you know I'm not one of "those moms" who gets all dramatic and freaks out at every milestone. I usually celebrate them with a lot of joy. But, this one, my dear, is tearing at my heart a little. You're growing up too fast for me and I just don't know quite how to handle that.

But, what I do know for certain is that I feel so very blessed to be your Mommy and I know that God must be looking out for me because I am. How on earth did I ever get so lucky?

I love you,

Mommy