Dear Kavya,
This morning, I came up to get you for school, a little surprised you weren’t up already, since usually, you set your alarm forty-five minutes early, so you have plenty of time to get ready in a leisurely way. You like to plan things, and be able to take your own time about the activities of the day. I walked into your room and to your bed, and you sat up, reached for me, and burst into tears. This is not typical behavior for you, sunny child. Apparently, you’d had a bad dream.
I asked you to tell me about it, and you said that they were signing up for new schools, and your best friend signed up for a different school, and you weren’t allowed to go there, and you *never saw her again*. And then you cried some more. So I hugged you and told you not to worry, that even if you did have to go to different schools, we would make sure that you got to see your friend again, lots. That things happened in dreams that would never happen in real life. We wouldn’t let them.
And you calmed down, but you were still pretty somber. So then I told you that the real problem you were likely to have, was that you would have too many friends and family who would love you too much, and they’d all want to spend time with you, when you just wanted to be alone. I reminded you that that’s already a problem with your little brother, who wants nothing more than to play with you constantly. And that it’s just going to get worse as you get older, with more and more friends.
The bigggest problem is going to be in college, when you’re going to be trying to get your homework done, and your mommy is going to be calling you, saying, “Kavya, I miss you, come visit me; we can make cookies!” Or “Kavya, I miss you, never mind that cute boy who wants to spend time with you, come home and we’ll play dress-up!” That was what finally got you to laugh, and you said that wasn’t going to happen, with the cute boy, and I said, well, it might.
And then you got dressed, and we found a new way to do your hair and a fun hair accessory to use for it, and you smiled at that too, and then it was downstairs for oatmeal and then off to the bus.
I’m writing all this because you probably won’t remember it, or all the other little moments like it, and maybe I won’t remember them either. But these are some of the best bits of being your mother. Despite everything your father and I can do, your life, like all lives, will have hard times. The terrible thing about being a parent is that I won’t be able to help with many of them. But the times when I can? When hugs and kisses and reassurances and silly stories can actually make everything better? That’s one of the best feelings in the world, sweetheart. Thanks for sharing it with me.
– Mommy