Dear Margot,
Bug. You seem so big even though I know you are small. Everyone who meets you remarks how you are an old soul. You are, you know. Wise, convicted, aware and compassionate. It’s remarkable.
I was freaking out about kindergarten. FREAKING OUT. Nothing sitting right, everything unsettled in my brain. I get really excited about homeschooling. I think we’d be good at it. I still think it will happen at some point. And I am excited about public school, which is where we decided to begin because of your enthusiasm, because of community and because we want to begin somewhere. I trust you so much. And so, months ago, I shoved the tipsy blur of my cyclical thought OUT and just had the best summer of my life with you and our family.
As the day neared you buzzed. There are eight kids on our street in kindergarten. Eight! There are dozens in other grades. Really, I couldn’t have dreamed up a better scenario.
Things I want to remember and things I want you to know about right now. This moment.
* Your first day was just you and me for one hour. An orientation of sorts. You love your teacher. You think she looks like a mermaid and the way you talk about her makes me wonder if she also sings and swims. You were so thoughtful and confident. You sat on my lap and studied everything in that classroom. I am so thankful for that day. A great start.
* Accessories are your bff. More is more. Even bike bling. I adore your creativity.
* You lost the necklace we made together, the one that was my heart that you wanted to wear forever. I was more bummed than I wanted to be. It didn’t bother you. The night before school you asked me to make another. I was tired and cranky and didn’t want to. You insisted. And so we headed to my studio to select beads and make a necklace. You wanted to clip a sparkly bead from one of my bras. You’ve always loved that cleavage bling. You took your time selecting the necklace components and then explained each one. “This will make me think of you and your heart. This is because grandma gave it to me. This is for my sister and this will remind me of your boobs.”
* The day before your orientation Ruby started school. You and I had an entire day just the two of us. We talked about Ruby a lot. Your love for her is so true.
* You spent a long time packing your backpack by yourself. Your backpack is giant and you love it. You didn’t want a small one. I tried to steer you to a bug-sized satchel before I stopped myself and honored your big-bag excitement.
* I volunteer in your classroom two days a week. I teach you and your classmates math, reading and writing. I know all of their names and smiles. I love being there and know I am doing important work. I about bust open with pride when I am there. Margot, you are so excited to learn and you are such a good friend.
* Biking to and from school is one of my favorite parts of my day. You are so open and talkative when we bike. Can we please do this every day forever?
* We snuggled in bed the other morning. You said, “Mama, I want to be a mom. But I am really not interested in pushing a baby out. I will adopt. Also, is it ok if I just live with you and dad until you guys die? Then I can get a husband.”
* You like to cartwheel, draw, run, write, hold hands, talk about your approaching sixth birthday, play with your sister and learn new things. You recently taught yourself to tie bows and braid.
Months ago, a mama deer had two spotted babies in our yard.
We saw them the day they first inhaled air, first greeted trees, first staggered over green grass, the mama always inches away. Slowly, naturally, more space surrounded the fawns as they sauntered past our kitchen window every afternoon. Sometimes the mama wasn’t visible for minutes. She’d walk ahead with trust, without looking back. But she was always near, available. It became my daily affirmation about kindergarten. Just today the fawns walked by without the mama. I waited for about five minutes but she wasn’t there. Oh she was there, in the way a mama always is. Thinking about, healing from, opening toward. Symbiotic pulses. Of each other.
I am holding you tight right now. Can you feel it?
with love,
mama
29 Comments
Margot, you have such a fun life! Such a fun mom! But I don’t know why frogs remind you of her boobs. 🙂
So very sweet. Love the photos and description of your girl at this time. I hope we live on a street with lots of other kids when my Josey gets a little bigger!
I’m thinking of writing letters to the girls (on paper!) each birthday. It’s such a good habit to look at them at that point in their life, as I’m sure later it will blur.
Love Love Love this post.
This is so incredibly sweet!
Best.Post. Ever! Thank you for sharing your beautiful girl and your heart.
❤️
I love this…this is the kind of love I feel for you.
Mom
Nothing like motherhood – your purpose is to grow and nurture a heart and then watching it leap away. Love your analogy of the mama and fawn.
Margot, you’re a one of a kind. And that makes you fan-damn-tastic.
Nici, I love this!
And isn’t the open chattiness the best? Something about the body moving on the bike and also not really having to make eye contact really promotes it, I think! With Avi, I just have to wait and eventually so much comes tumbling out!! Sometimes I want to get a tape recorder to get it all down. And I hear you on being in the classroom!! I love being part of it in some way an also bearing witness to it all. It’s really such an honor, isn’t it? And ps, I love Margots attachment to your boobs!! My two are all too aware that a new baby brother will arrive soon and occupy mama’s breasts and there is a LOT of talk about it!!
Ooooh a new baby brother. Melissa, how exciting and awesome for everyone. There’s enough boob to go around!
I’m a faithful reader. Love waking up to a new post from you. As a mama of 4, this one truly melted my heart. Love your words. Thank you so much for sharing your family with us. I learn so much from you. Peace and love from NS, Canada.
This is just so beautifully worded. And I believe we have the same beds in our home for our kids. This End Up bunk beds? Only we’re using the two footboards (or how you would assemble just the top bunk) as the head and footboard for our youngest so we can also use the built in rails. LOL
I’m not sure! Man, if they are the same, thank you! I get so many questions about them on my blog and instagram and I’ve never been able to answer because we got them at a thrift store.
I know I have said it before, but you are such an awesome Mom! Margot and Ruby are so lucky!
If only all children in this world were loved with such grace and compassion. You are all so lucky to have each other!
Swoon! What a beautiful post. It made me think of this quote:
” Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.”
Anais Nin
Cheers to the best summer of your life! I had one of those, too. The autumn is shaping up to hold just as many full blessings.
Absolutely gorgeous Nici. I love how you make poetry out of every day moments. And cleavage bling… made me snort laugh. 🙂
Holding close & letting go… that is the rhythm of my days too.
xo
Kate
Cleavage bling is funny! I am so relieved she cut the crystal flower from my bra. Why on earth do they do that? Who are ‘they’ anyway? Ha. xo
I love this too, I can relate. My five year old just started kindergarten while my three year old started preschool. Such a big step for all of us. Love this post and the quote from Erin above ^^^.
I think Margot has a pretty sweet mother.
oh I love you guys!
Darn it, I thought I would make it to the end without crying but the last line got me! Beautiful writing, as always, Nici.
Beautiful Nici! Your mom’s comment really got me too. Blessed mamas to have such daughters and vice versa.
‘and this will remind me of your boobs.’
priceless. all of it.
you are dear deer mama. and your little fawns really truly are remarkable.
love reading your words.
Can we please do this everyday forever?
That sweet bike ride 🙂 just made me year up a little. New reader here. I really enjoyed this post 🙂
I have saved this post for when I really had some quiet time to read it. I love how you will have these memories to remind you of these days written down.
I hope to do more of that.
Also, we bike HOME from school and it is just the best. I coast on Reece’s bike while Lorelai rides hers and I just watch them ride as I walk back. Those are the best memories.
Thank you for inspiring me to write more about the simple things.
I can so relate to the emotions and jumbled thoughts about kindergarten, and the need to just *start* somewhere. I am trying to embrace our current choice, full-on, and some days are easier than others. Next month, I get to start volunteering in my girl’s class too, and I cannot wait! I think it will help me to better understand her experience and feel engaged in it. Maybe some bra bling would help, too. 🙂 As always, thanks for sharing.
Beautiful