A new normal.

Dear Kindergartner,

There was a big thing that happened about 6 years ago. Your life (in utero) began and my career as a full-time camp director began a slow decline. So much so that the day you were born, I knew I was done. My first day back at work after maternity leave became the day I gave my notice.

Gotta admit. It's kinda nice to retire at 27.

Since then it's been me and you.

Then that Buster Boy busted in, but he took a lot of naps so it was still kinda me and you.

AND THEN CAME THE TWINS.

Man, did we ever pair up and take those Twinzies to the next level. You bottle fed, changed some tee tee diapers, endlessly entertained, spoon fed, read to, prevented falls, taught songs and were hands down my right hand girl.

Today, all things changed.

I've had a catch in my throat for the past 3 days and have had a hard time even looking your direction knowing what was to come. And don't get me wrong. I'm MORE than excited for this new venture for you. ABSOLUTELY positive it's the perfect time and the perfect move for you.

But.

I'm losing my right hand girl.

She went to kindergarten today.

And it's the first day I've been away from you (and still been at our house) EVER. So the hard part wasn't in sending you to a new place with a roomful of strangers. Or giving you over to a new woman in your life that will be your teacher/mentor/encourager/life-shaper.

Nope.

You aced that.

The hard part was coming home and feeling the void. YOU. Your personality. Your helpfulness. Your take-charge attitude. Your creativity. Your genuine love and desire to be among your brothers and sister.


We all felt it, but Buster and I felt it most. Lots of tears. Lots of idle sitting wondering what we ever did during these long daytime hours.

It was rough, yes. But it became 100% worth every tear when you hopped into the car at 2:54pm beaming, chattering, throwing your arms around me and handing out kisses to 3 car seats full of siblings.

I love hearing about your new friends. I love hearing about the new things you're learning. I love hearing about all the times you spot Daddy in the halls or in the lunchroom. I love hearing your enthusiasm about the homework you don't have yet. I love to hear every bit about this new part of your life.

And though you're not at home as much as you used to be, I believe it will make the times we do spend together even more precious.

You, my daughter, are STILL my right hand girl.

Beyond proud.