"Are you going to walk me to the bus stop?”
“No. You don’t need me to. And trust me, you don’t want me to.”
“But…” a little flash of panic in her eyes.
“You’re in middle school. You got this.”
And she does. But, my Little Meems doesn’t love change, and heading off to middle school is a big one.
This is a little girl who still likes to hold my hand. Even though she’s 12, and probably shouldn’t want to, I let her, because one day she won’t want to. I say little because she is, but also she isn’t. She and I are stuck somewhere between the lands of big and little and we’re trying to meet in the middle, but sometimes we miss each other. She wants to be independent, yet she wants me to do everything for her. I want her to not need me so much, yet I want her to still value my help and opinions. So it goes with preteens, I guess.
This popped up in my Facebook feed on Monday. My memory from 5 years ago, when she entered first grade.
This is now. Although the first picture is how I will always see her.
She is still missing teeth. She still favors turquoise nail polish. The hair is curly (although we have discovered the straightening iron), the eyes are big, the dimples are bigger. I miss that little face. I miss stealing sugar from the sweet spot between her neck and chin.
I sent this to her last night. I want her to read it every day.
The bus came and went without incident this morning. I watched from the hidden safety of our garage, so I could be there with her, just not with her.
She’ll be fine.
Sure. But I’m gonna go have a little cry now if you don’t mind.