You are six.

Sometimes I take you face in my hands, and I just try so hard to make sure I'm remembering your sparkling eyes and your genuine cheek-to-cheek smile (minus a couple teeth these days). I never feel like I can adequately seal your effervescence into my brain. I want to remember everything--the sound of your sweet 6-year-old voice, your ideas, your kindergarten frustrations, your laugh, the things that delight you ... Alas, I want more of this. It's so, so good. You are so incredible.

As a dispatch, you've had a banner year.

• Began reading. Mrs. Brown was an AWESOME preK teacher. By then end of the year, you knew at least 30-50 sight words. You read 60 pages of the Dick & Jane compendium. And now? You read Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus all on your own. (Last night, you recited it from memory.)
• Lost your first teeth. You actually pulled the first out yourself during rest time at school. Mrs. Schropp gave you a little plastic tooth holder that looks like a tooth, which you thought was amazing.
• Began piano lessons with Mr. Witt who comes to our house on Thursdays. He is quite impressed with your ability to pick up on things. You ask him to draw your name in funny letters each week.
• Began gymnastics. You are easily the tallest one in this young class, but it has given you a greater sense of your body. And you like the bars.
• Tying your shoes. We made a deal at Gymboree that I would buy the high-top rainbow shoes for school IF you learned how to tie the laces. And you did! You're still practicing, but I LOVE your concentration. (Your tongue hangs out a bit.)
• Playdates. We had Mattison over a couple times this summer. She lives just a street over. You played Barbies, games, made beaded necklaces, ate lunch on the patio and dessert in the clubhouse.
• Buckling your seatbelt. Goodbye, 5-point harness. Hello, booster seat. With a back, of course. And extra protection. And padding. And seat locks.
• First classmate birthday party. This was a doozy. You chose "happy bird-day" as your theme. And mom had to make it happen. Do you know what's "in" now? Not birds. Unicorns, llamas, pineapples, Shimmer & Shine and Star Wars. So mom had to get creative: I drew a flock of different birds on your chalkboard, ordered feather hairclips and bird beaks for party favors and stuck a rainbow of marshmallow Peep chicks on your ice cream cake. You loved it. Whew.
• Scored your first soccer goal. The last two seasons have been, well, recreational. Your fave parts of soccer were the team tunnel and the snacks. You asked to play again this year, to which I reluctantly agreed. And then--BAM. You're in the mix, naming the team, running at the front of the pack and you scored your very first goal--the only goal for the team that game. After the ball hit the net, you took about 2-3 full seconds to lean against up and put your elbow on the goal, crossed your ankles and smile and me and Dad on the sidelines, as if to say, "Yeah, I got this." Heehee!

You and Gram could talk on the phone easily for an hour. It's funny to listen to your grown-up conversation.

Ms. Sandy, your swim instructor, is an older, gruff woman who wears scuba gear in the pool with her students. She barks out orders like a typical coach, but you take it all in stride. And boy, do you stride. You are the youngest in this particular swim class you and glide ahead of the older kids with ease. I LOVE watching you progress AND excel at this!

Girl drama has begun. Cate P. apparently tried to "get a a crew" against you. But you handled it. She also told kids after your birdday party that SHE was going to have a chalkboard even bigger than yours and have it at a gymnastics place, too. Ee-gads. I told you that, it's hard to understand, but the way people treat you has very little to do with you and everything to do with how THEY are feeling on the inside. Happy people don't act like that.

Another thing that I'm proud of is our relationship. I wanted something different for you and me from what I had with my mom. I love Grandma Thom. But growing up, I think the demands of five children, a farm, finances, illnesses, accidents and burdens were just too much. Her frustrations came out often and hurt my little soul to the point that it put long-lasting distance in my heart. I wanted you to feel and know that without question or circumstance, you are loved fully and wholly for who you are. There are no conditions. Yes, I want you to clean your room, but you don't need to clean your room to earn my love. I wanted to enjoy you, support you, encourage you to be all that God has created you to be. My job is to help you see your gifts and share them. Sometimes I have to raise my voice, but it is very, very rare. I think it's funny how you react to my correction: wide eyes, open hands "Okay, okay, Mom. I know, I know!" I LOVE that you are confident to say that to me.

You are still not keen on dresses because you say you're not really a fancy girl.

My company recently decided to relocate to Greensboro, N.C. I've been told by the very important corporate HR people that I am on a shortlist of people who they really want to move there. While it may seem stressful to some, I'm thinking God may be granting me a severance package in order to give me more time with 6yo you. ;) I really hope that's the case. Love you, darling girl.