"Okay," I say. But, I'm wondering when she suddenly switched from wanting me to walk her all the way to the door at preschool.
"I can open the car door myself, too. You don't need to get out."
"Did you get your lunch? Your jacket?"
"Yep! I've got it. Ohhh. The door is heavy. But, I got it! Bye, Mom!"
I watch as she skips up the walk (a newly perfected skill from dance class), her cute a-lined hair bobbing up and down. She stands on the porch and knocks. She turns and waves. She knocks again and peeks in the window. She turns and smiles.
Then, still waiting for someone to come to the door, she sets her stuff down and turns around, putting her little hands together to make the shape of a heart. And, she melts my mother heart.
Motherhood marches on. And sometimes, in some ways, I feel like I can't quite keep stride.
