A Front Row Seat

Yesterday we rolled coins across the floor of her room to one another for a long time. Then we played hide and seek, not searching for each other, but for these pennies and dimes, now tucked under seat cushions and rugs. Finally, we took turns trying to see which of us could throw a coin across the room, past the legs of a chair and have it come to rest closest to the base of the wall. She was the author of each undertaking. I but a willing participant.

This was not the first time she had utilized money for purposes other than originally intended. I know because we started with a total of six coins and ended with ten. I suggested to her that the extra ones might be the children of the first six. She was not buying it.

In her room the piece I wrote to her before she was born sits framed and on her desk. It speaks of my hopes and dreams for her. I read it to her yesterday. It was the first time I had done so. She listened with purpose, polite to the last, even though some of the words have not yet entered her vocabulary. If she will let me, it is my intention to repeat this undertaking once a year as a birthday reminder of my love for her. Of my wishes for her. 

Maybe one year she will read it to me.

Today is her fifth birthday. She is now a full fledged kindergartener. Last week she was reluctant to separate from her mom at the beginning of the school day. Yesterday she helped coax a fellow student who was having a difficult morning into the building.

Her mind is hard at work these days. Taking in an ever changing universe, processing it and searching for clues, for answers. Like playing hide and seek "for real life" as she says.

And I get to watch from a front row seat. To see her becoming. What more could I possibly ask for?