Yesterday was a big day for Sammie B (and for me!) . . . a day worthy of a letter. So here goes . . .
My DEAR Sammie B:
Yesterday was a big day for you. A big and busy day (so busy in fact, I'm not sure who was more tired, you or me!). You started "school" for the first time! And I got to go with you!!! It was a VERY special day.
I had to wake you up early -- after you practiced your new quadriped skills in my bed until 10 pm the night before! You (like your mama) are NOT a morning person, so you didn't appreciate being woken up early, and didn't smile too much in our "first day" pictures. But, I took them anyway!
You wore a sassy new outfit that I picked out and your Nana bought for you (skinny pink cordoroys friends!) and you had a special new backback that says "Sammie B" on it that your Gigi bought :o) Special gifts for a special girl. And yes, this begins for you -- in the tradition your Gigi started (and continued) for me (for more years than she thought possible) -- the "new first day of school outfit" tradition! (Gigi says she wouldn't have made such a big deal out of my first days of school if she'd known I would stay in school for TWENTY-THREE YEARS).
We got to your school early, so we could put your things in your cubby and get acclimated a bit. . . (and snap a few more pictures). You'd already seen your classroom, so you seemed comfortable right away, and you were happy to sit in the tiny little chair (just as I was to see your cuteness in it!).
Then the other kiddos and parents/caregivers arrived and we did opening circle time. At your school, the parents/caregivers get to stay for that everyday, which is pretty cool! Through circle time, free play time, snack time, outside play time, activity time, lunch and closing circle, you were amazing. You were you. Amazing little observant Sammie B. I watched you and could tell that you were just taking it all in. Watching you have new experiences is probably my number one most favorite thing in life. It melts me. Every time I asked you if you liked school, you smiled and nodded "yes" with enthusiasm, and you gave your teacher a whole lot of flirtatious Sammie B smiles. I'm pretty sure he's already fallen in love with you. Hard not to. They are all very impressed with your signs (you have "backpack" now!). At closing circle, we sang "Twinkle Twinkle" and I got tears in my eyes. Sappy mama! I'm so glad I got to share that day with you!
I watched the teachers, PT, OT, and teaching assistants with you and with the other kiddos, and it just reinforced what I knew . . . this school is going to be so wonderful with you and for you. So so wonderful. So here's to new adventures my little girl!
After school, we rushed home for a quick celebration (also tradition in my family!) with a cake and some small presents . . . Your loving nanny, her mom, and friend joined us. (There's some things I'm going to do a little different than Gigi did ;o) like buying, not making, the first day treats!).
After our party, it was off to hippotherapy. It is a LONG drive, and you slept the entire way (wish I could have!).
After horses, a quick bite to eat on the way home (pizza, our new Tuesday night tradition) and then the long drive back. I called dada on the way back to tell him all about your day (he's so very sad to be out of town this week of all weeks!).
And when we got home, there was yet another big "happening" in our house. I put you in your bedroom floor while I folded a quick load of laundry and you were just rolling around. I looked over and you were on your tummy, and then up on all fours! THEN I said, "okay, sit up," and you did! FROM FLOOR TO SIT ALL BY YOURSELF. THE EVER-ELUSIVE "TRANSITION". See, we've been working on THAT transition with you for about a year and a half. Our PT kept telling us how important it is for a kiddo to be able to go from belly to all fours to sit. A year and a half ago, that seemed MILES away. We had to do every single step of it for you. You HATED it. Over time, the tears got fewer and the amount of the "work" we did lessened, and you did more of the work yourself. There were times when I secretly thought the stupid transition was just that . . . stupid . . . and wondered why the PT insisted on working on it EVERY session. But we did. We -- you --- worked oh so hard. And yesterday . . . you did it. To see you on all fours, smiling from ear to ear, then working your way back to your bum . . . priceless. My girl -- you worked so hard. I screamed with glee, you laughed and smiled with sheer delight and pride, and I immediately texted your dada, PT and nanny "!!!!!! TRANSITION !!!!! She just did it all by herself; 100% bee, from belly to sit!!!!" I got excited messages back from all three within instants.
And then, (after you practicing your new skill several times in bed) . . . we crashed . . . hard.
A big day indeed. So, my sweet girl, while I can't promise that I won't ever get discouraged with all the hard work, or that I won't ever wish you didn't have to do all these therapies (because I DO wish things were easier for you) I can promise this . . . no matter how much "work" is needed or how much time lapses in between these great smilestones, I'm there. With you. Working with you, smiling with you, giggling with you. Watching you in utter and complete amazement, and screaming with absolute glee when the smilestones happen. And, as one of my friends reminded me, while speed and agility may not come easily to you . . . some things do.
and magical magical rockstar'ishness.
Happy first day of school my sweet girl, and here's to new adventures, new smilestones (and the tiny inchstones that get us there), and so so much more.
Your ever lovin' mama.