She’s Flying in a Twirly Dress

I don’t know how May snuck out the back door so quickly but June is already unpacked and throwing a confetti of school events and pre-summer shenanigans in the Burr house.  I’m trying to squeeze a couple extra doctors appointments, coffee dates, and writing deadlines in the few remaining mornings that my youngest has preschool, and the rest of life is adding its own to-dos in my once blank planner.

But in all the crazy, one pink sticker marks the special day this month when I celebrate my oldest daughter’s 9th birthday.

You don’t always notice the little changes in your child- the tiny blooms of maturity, independence and confidence- until you start to see a flower growing, or a fruit ripened.

An event or moment will pull back a curtain that allows you to see what’s been pushing its way up through the soil of their souls.

Last summer I had one such moment with my girl.  We were on vacation with my parents at a cabin beside the lake-like Damon Pond.  A three minute walk down a barely-used dirt road was all that separated us from a cozy beach area and playground.

One day my girl was determined to walk the path back to the cabin by herself to retrieve more floaties.  Our kids aren’t even allowed to go alone to the end of our driveway at home due to our busy street, so the idea of sending her anywhere on her own felt strange to me.  I knew she would be fine, yet I found my eyes following her confident steps until I couldn’t quite see her, then straining for glimpses of her as she rounded the road towards her new independence.

This past year I’ve collected many similar moments.  I started reading through A Series of Unfortunate Events with her, bonding over a shared addiction, and enjoying our mutual outrage upon discovering that the last installment of the book-turned-Netflix series won’t come out till 2019.  I’ve found myself talking to her differently, enjoying how maturity has filled out her already fun personality, and savoring our one-on-one dates to her new violin lessons.  New blooms everywhere.

My heart has melted watching her own heart for others blossom as well.  She’s always been someone who includes and notices others, no matter who they are.  But I saw a fresh giant blossom in her passion to make a difference in the world when she told me she wants to host an Amani Ya Juu shopping party for her birthday to help impoverished women earn a sustainable income.  Be still my soul. 🙂

Granted, this last year hasn’t been all roses.  I’m getting some early indications of approaching hormones that make me want to write a long letter of thanks to my mom for all the ways she put up with my whirlwind of emotions.

But I think I’m not in Kansas anymore…I’m stepping into a fun yet unchartered season of parenting on the heels of years of feeling like my primary duty was to keep everyone fed and diapered with an even distribution of electronic time.

I’m ashamed that I forget to enjoy my kids at times, and am grateful for moments that remind me of their fleeting childhood and the simple joy and privilege of being their mom.

Last night that reminder came at my daughter’s glow-themed third grade dance.  We went dress shopping so she could coordinate us both in blues.  She found several lovely dresses, but her heart was set on the twirliest dress.  (Mission accomplished!)  

As we entered the school, I was flooded by the awkward chaos of a gym full of sugar hyped kids, photo booth line, and DJ doing his best to play kid appropriate dance songs.  My daughter and I grabbed popcorn and danced for a bit, until she ran off with some friends and I joined the wall of parents lining the perimeter of the room.  My girl took pictures with her friends in the photo booth by herself, and I was so in awe of her brave confidence on the dance floor.  Every time I turned around she was right back at the front near the DJ, rocking her own dance moves, glow sticks and twirly dress and all.

When she was first born, she felt like an extension of myself.  I couldn’t let anyone hold her too long because it seemed I was loaning my own heart to someone else.  But that baby is growing up.  And she’s definitely her own beautiful person, no longer attached to my side.  And I’m slowly learning to let her go and watch her fly and bloom in her twirly dress. I can’t wait to see what this season brings and watch God unfold the beautiful story He’s writing in this girl.

What about YOU?  What has surprised you most about watching your children enter a new season?  What blossoms have you seen growing in your kids or yourself recently? Share your story here!