a big day...
I've intentionally waited until today to write you, Annabeth. Usually I'm late writing because I lose track of time, but that's not the case this month. Today was a big day for us. For you. For me. A monumental moment. The ending of an era. The beginning of a new chapter. Today was your first day of Parent's Day Out.
Now, you're probably reading this and surprised at how much I just built up PDO. But one day, when you have children, you'll understand. The goal of raising children is for them to grow up and become more independent, but you don't realize how quickly that happens when you're in the midst of it. I swear you were just born, so I'm shocked at how quickly we've arrived to this place. To this transition. And one of the things I really admire and appreciate about you is how well you adapt to changes and transitions.
For almost 3 years of your life, we've spent every day together minus the few vacations I've taken without you. We haven't spent every moment together, but I've always been near. And if I wasn't with you then you were with a family member. In fact, to date, I have yet to pay a dollar towards babysitting. And so I struggled with the thought of putting you into a PDO. You and Madelyn are my most treasured possessions, and it takes a lot of faith for me to entrust you to the care of others. Plus, I like having you around and being a part of your entire day. However, since Madelyn was born I've found it challenging to keep up with you and give you the amount of attention you would like. You are so active and social that I knew you'd thrive in PDO and needed the challeges and learning opportunities that come with it.
I began looking around in January so I could, hopefully, secure you a spot for August. I was definitely thinking ahead and doing my best to be prepared. Turns out, I liked the same programs as everyone else. "We have waiting lists," they all said, "but if you register early you can probably get a spot." And, since they all offered great programs, I was really conflicted. The decision felt so weighty, as if I was sending you off to college. I began to pray, "Lord, lead me to the right PDO for Annabeth. Let it be the only one that has a spot so I'll know this is where she needs to be." To be clear, I didn't look at every place in town. I just scoped out the ones near our home. They all had open registration right around the end of March...the same time your sister was born. You can guess where PDO registration fell on my to-do list.
I finally began feeling better and started calling around to find out we basically had no chance to get in to any of the programs I had scoped out. I was really frustrated and the thought of looking around at more programs overwhelmed me. The last thing I wanted to do was tote a baby all over town knowing full well that probably every PDO was full by now. But a friend I met a few years ago sent me an email just checking in to see how we were adjusting as a family of 4. She just so happened to be a director at a PDO, so I asked if she had any openings. "We actually have a spot open for that age group," she replied. I registered you that day.
But as the summer flew by and we got closer to your start date, I began to doubt. Was this the right decision? Should I back out? Truthfully, I was dealing with fear. Fear of losing time with you. Fear of leaving you across town, out of my possession, two days a week. Fear of all sorts of things. You're not like me in this regard, and for that I'm thankful. To this date, I still find myself filled with anxiety and nerves anytime I begin something new, especially if I don't know anyone else there. I've learned how to manage it, but over the past few years, God has shown me that I don't have to manage it because it's a fear that He, himself, will subside.
We walked into your classroom on Sunday night, and to my surprise and joy, I knew your teacher! My heart was so overwhelmed by God's love for me and the very, very obvious way that He not only answered my prayers and relieved my fears, but also reminded me that He had it all worked out. He will take care of you. I met your teacher last summer at play dates and then saw her at BSF throughout the year. I instantly knew you were in good hands! But then again, you're in God's hands, so of course you're going to be fine.
You walked into the classroom this morning and didn't look back. In fact, I think you were one of the few who wasn't crying for their mother and having a meltdown. You're so confident and brave! I picked you up this afternoon, asking how the day was, and you said, "I liked it!" That's exactly what I had hoped and prayed to hear. Your teacher gave you a sweet report saying you took notice of your classmates and comforted them in their sorrows, but that didn't surprise me. You have a kind and caring heart. I still shed a few tears last night as I prayed over you and packed your little lunch. (Your dad joked that I was seasoning your sandwich with my tears!) And I woke up really early to let out a few more tears because watching your child grow up is the sweetest and saddest thing. This is the first of many. In a few years you'll start school, then you'll move on to college, and one day you'll get married. But no matter how old you are, I will cry tears of joy and thanksgiving (and maybe a little bit of sadness) with every new chapter.
I bought a cute little board for you to hold up on your first day. One section says: when I grow up I want to be... and you answered, "a grown up!" What a perfect answer. That's exactly what you will be. And there's no rush to get there, sweet girl. It will come quickly enough. And as you walk the journey ahead of you, remember that you don't walk alone. Each chapter of your story is uniquely and purposefully written by God, and I can testify to that in so many ways. You are bold and brave and fearless. You have an amazing adventure ahead of you. But I want to remind you of the wisdom of Proverbs. A promise you can always cling to. A promise God fulfills for me over and over and over again... PDO included.
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight." Proverbs 3:5-6
Now, you're probably reading this and surprised at how much I just built up PDO. But one day, when you have children, you'll understand. The goal of raising children is for them to grow up and become more independent, but you don't realize how quickly that happens when you're in the midst of it. I swear you were just born, so I'm shocked at how quickly we've arrived to this place. To this transition. And one of the things I really admire and appreciate about you is how well you adapt to changes and transitions.
For almost 3 years of your life, we've spent every day together minus the few vacations I've taken without you. We haven't spent every moment together, but I've always been near. And if I wasn't with you then you were with a family member. In fact, to date, I have yet to pay a dollar towards babysitting. And so I struggled with the thought of putting you into a PDO. You and Madelyn are my most treasured possessions, and it takes a lot of faith for me to entrust you to the care of others. Plus, I like having you around and being a part of your entire day. However, since Madelyn was born I've found it challenging to keep up with you and give you the amount of attention you would like. You are so active and social that I knew you'd thrive in PDO and needed the challeges and learning opportunities that come with it.
I began looking around in January so I could, hopefully, secure you a spot for August. I was definitely thinking ahead and doing my best to be prepared. Turns out, I liked the same programs as everyone else. "We have waiting lists," they all said, "but if you register early you can probably get a spot." And, since they all offered great programs, I was really conflicted. The decision felt so weighty, as if I was sending you off to college. I began to pray, "Lord, lead me to the right PDO for Annabeth. Let it be the only one that has a spot so I'll know this is where she needs to be." To be clear, I didn't look at every place in town. I just scoped out the ones near our home. They all had open registration right around the end of March...the same time your sister was born. You can guess where PDO registration fell on my to-do list.
I finally began feeling better and started calling around to find out we basically had no chance to get in to any of the programs I had scoped out. I was really frustrated and the thought of looking around at more programs overwhelmed me. The last thing I wanted to do was tote a baby all over town knowing full well that probably every PDO was full by now. But a friend I met a few years ago sent me an email just checking in to see how we were adjusting as a family of 4. She just so happened to be a director at a PDO, so I asked if she had any openings. "We actually have a spot open for that age group," she replied. I registered you that day.
But as the summer flew by and we got closer to your start date, I began to doubt. Was this the right decision? Should I back out? Truthfully, I was dealing with fear. Fear of losing time with you. Fear of leaving you across town, out of my possession, two days a week. Fear of all sorts of things. You're not like me in this regard, and for that I'm thankful. To this date, I still find myself filled with anxiety and nerves anytime I begin something new, especially if I don't know anyone else there. I've learned how to manage it, but over the past few years, God has shown me that I don't have to manage it because it's a fear that He, himself, will subside.
We walked into your classroom on Sunday night, and to my surprise and joy, I knew your teacher! My heart was so overwhelmed by God's love for me and the very, very obvious way that He not only answered my prayers and relieved my fears, but also reminded me that He had it all worked out. He will take care of you. I met your teacher last summer at play dates and then saw her at BSF throughout the year. I instantly knew you were in good hands! But then again, you're in God's hands, so of course you're going to be fine.
You walked into the classroom this morning and didn't look back. In fact, I think you were one of the few who wasn't crying for their mother and having a meltdown. You're so confident and brave! I picked you up this afternoon, asking how the day was, and you said, "I liked it!" That's exactly what I had hoped and prayed to hear. Your teacher gave you a sweet report saying you took notice of your classmates and comforted them in their sorrows, but that didn't surprise me. You have a kind and caring heart. I still shed a few tears last night as I prayed over you and packed your little lunch. (Your dad joked that I was seasoning your sandwich with my tears!) And I woke up really early to let out a few more tears because watching your child grow up is the sweetest and saddest thing. This is the first of many. In a few years you'll start school, then you'll move on to college, and one day you'll get married. But no matter how old you are, I will cry tears of joy and thanksgiving (and maybe a little bit of sadness) with every new chapter.
I bought a cute little board for you to hold up on your first day. One section says: when I grow up I want to be... and you answered, "a grown up!" What a perfect answer. That's exactly what you will be. And there's no rush to get there, sweet girl. It will come quickly enough. And as you walk the journey ahead of you, remember that you don't walk alone. Each chapter of your story is uniquely and purposefully written by God, and I can testify to that in so many ways. You are bold and brave and fearless. You have an amazing adventure ahead of you. But I want to remind you of the wisdom of Proverbs. A promise you can always cling to. A promise God fulfills for me over and over and over again... PDO included.
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight." Proverbs 3:5-6
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