Tuesday, September 28, 2010
You are beautiful. Inside...outside...everything-in-between side. As your sixth tooth fell out this morning, my heart started accepting the fact that you're really not a little kid anymore. Somewhere in the business of life, you dropped the 'little' and started encompassing the 'kid'. I get it now. I get that soon you'll be a big kid...and sooner you'll be a tween...and soonest you'll be a teenager.
But, for today, you're a kid.
I love this you. This starting-to-understand-real-life you. You approached me this morning while I was in a meeting and quietly waited by my side until I finished what I was saying to the other ladies around the table. "Excuse me," you said, "may I have a chip?" I didn't realize you had been listening the thousands of times I asked you not to interrupt me...
We went shopping the other day, and I sincerely took your fashion advice. You had adult-like reasons for your choices...and, besides, I think we both have just as much sense as the other when it comes to fashion. I had fun, McKenzie. Real fun with you.
But, by far, the experience that has touched me the most about your personality lately was watching your pure, innocent joy as your brother learned to ride his two-wheeler bike. Not 24 hours after you took your own training wheels off, you were right by Carson's side with praise and encouragement. I watched with mild discomfort as the neighbors gushed over Carson's accomplishment in your presence - worried that you would feel the thunder behind your own accomplishment stolen away. But you never hung your head. You never looked angry. Instead of feeling jealous, you felt pride and happiness for your little brother. Days later, I watched you run to a friend and exclaim, "Guess what my brother can do?!"... and it touched me to tears. Well, Kenz...you worked hard to be able to ride on two wheels, too! I'm proud of you for that. But I'm mostly proud of you for the heartfelt support you gave your brother in what could have been a frustrating time for you.
This may be the best phase (though I admittedly say that about every new phase you enter). Your independence is strengthening, your mind is hungering for and swelling with knowledge, your greatest desire is to make me happy, you delight in the time we spend together. We play house (even though I mostly insist on being the maid who needs to get the dishes done), and learn the piano together. We paint our fingernails and toenails while listening to Junie B. Jones in the CD player. And when I laugh at a funny part, that makes you laugh even harder. There are moments of calm sadness when I think of the cute little snippets of you that have been left behind...but I genuinely relish in your growth.
I am so proud of who you are.