A letter to my kids

Dear William and Evie,

There you are. You are off again for another day of school. You are starting to really get settled into this routine of craziness that has become our lives. You are taking responsibility for the tasks that must get done, complying with endless requests for your time and attention as you grow into this pulled-in-every-direction lifestyle that has become the American way.

Here I am. Worrying about you as usual. There are times I wish we could go back to when you were very small and I could control everything in the world around you. I could shelter you from unkind words, protect you from people with unkind hearts, and shield you from the slings and arrows of an all-too-often unkind world.

But you are handling it like pros. You are learning so quickly that life is a road of give-and-take. That there are difficulties to be negotiated and rewards to be discovered, both often in the most unlikely of places. While I miss that you no longer fit so snuggly on my lap or shoulder, I am overwhelmed that your little arms still secure around my neck. And I can't help but smile through bittersweet tears when I am the audience for your efforts to earn just a little more independence from your childhood...a small whisper in my ear, "can I stay up a little bit later now because I am second-grader?" 15 minutes, we agree; a hands-on-hips declaration, "I'm big enough to do it myselth (so cute that you don't say it 'myselF')." So you are, I concede.

I'm learning quickly to choose my battles wisely with you. In the end, you will only be this young and this small for today. So go out into the world in your mismatched outfit because it has both of the colors of the day, eat nothing but bread for snack, and remember that at the end of the day it doesn't matter what you wore or what you ate, but rather who you were that day that matters. And you, my children, are wonderful.

Love,
Mom