You have been in kindergarten for 100 days now. I just got to have my first parent-teacher conference with Mrs. K. last week, and do you know what she said? She raved. Like I knew she would. She raved about how you are just the sweetest little girl, and how you show kindness to everyone around you. She raved about your retelling of the Gingerbread man to the class and said she wouldn't be surprised if you were on stage some day with all that drama. She said you listen SO intently and that your work ethic is remarkable. She couldn't help but grin every time she relayed a story about you... and when Mrs. C, the other teacher, walked into our meeting and saw your file, her whole face lit up and her head tilted and shoulders dropped like she just wanted to give you a big hug right then, even though you weren't there, "OH---- Sophiiiiii-aaaa. We just LOVE Sophia... I thought you might be the mother of that beautiful little girl."
It's good to see that it's not just me who gets to have their day LIT up by you. Your are such a delight for everyone around you. I could not have felt more proud.
I love to come pick you up from school, because I get to see a new cute kid sitting by you every once in a while (it's happened at least a handful of times) who says
"Hey-- Hey Sophia's mommy, I'm Sophia's best friend!" ----
"oh Sophia what's your new friends name?"
"um-- I don't know." (then they remind you and you excitedly say goodbye... then make the walk out of the lunch area waving and making silly jokes to all the kids as you pass.)
If I were five, I'd want to be your best friend to.
Your preschool teacher told me at the end of last year--- that you were the girl who would be friends with ALL types of kids-- that you never discriminated, and that you made everyone around you feel good. You might eventually need to remember their names... but I think you make all of us around you feel special.
I told you the other day that the kids at school sure seemed to like you, and you told me wisely "that's because I always say nice things to them because I don't ever want anyone to feel sad."
If only everyone realized how easy it really is to be loved. And how good it feels to uplift. Grown ups have it so backwards sometimes.
The other night, you and Mila were playing and I suddenly heard your terrified voice yelling, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-- I'm sorry, Mila, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!! I didn't mean to!!!!!!!!!" I race over to intervene, imagining Mila about to retaliate viciously for some small mistake on your part. I'm picturing her hurling herself through the air at you with fists formed, when she reaches my bedroom calmly, "Mom, Sophia took a toy RIGHT out of my hand." She says is it with so much satisfaction, while you are still screaming from your room in a panic "I didn't mean to!!!!"
And this is when I realize that all of your anxiety was about Mila coming to tell me that you'd swiped a toy. You DON'T swipe toys. You are SO good to your sister and you certainly get toys swiped out of YOUR hands. I can picture the whole thing, that you grabbed something rashly, probably threw it right back at her realizing you'd made a mistake. But it was too late, Mila actually HAD something on you. :) And she marched off to tell me with a puffed out chest full of confidence.
I explained to Mila that clearly you were sorry (since the whole neighborhood had heard your apology) and gave the toy back, so there's no problem. And assured you that I wasn't mad--- that everyone makes mistakes-- it's just important that we fix them, and you already had. No biggie... moving on... Your whole demeanor relaxed when you realized I wasn't the least bit upset. You gave me a huge hug and told me I was the best mom you EVER had. You tell me that a lot.
You do NOT like to do the wrong thing. You are your father's daughter, and it makes me so grateful for the things he teaches you girls without realizing it.
Yesterday, we were working on your sight words for school, and you took a potty-break. You were putting off coming back to continue, and finally you came in and told me, "mom, you know why I don't what to do my sight words?"
"Because I don't want to go to first grade and have to go back into class after I eat my lunch. I just want to see you every day after I eat my lunch and come HOME with you."
Uh oh-- I sure don't want you holding yourself back because I scared you about first grade--- but I must admit, (shhh) I'm right there with you. I wonder if I'd have sent you to kinder if it occurred to me that the long, REAL school days in 1st grade would sneak up so quickly after. I'm not sure yet, if we can bare losing you for that many hours a day. My heart beats a little faster just thinking of it right now.
We'll cross that bridge later.
You make motherhood sweeter than I even dreamed.