You fell out of bed tonight. We heard a bump. I didn’t hear anything else, but Daddy heard you crying. He went upstairs, and he said you were sitting on the end of your bed shaking. Half asleep.
You do that sometimes. When something startles or scares or confuses you, you shake. I’m not sure anyone but Daddy and I have seen it. I’m not sure anybody but Daddy and I would expect it.
You go out into the world, Goosie, and you take it on. You run into line at school. You jump into the pool. You climb the highest slides, and people see the strength and the courage and the independence.
But I want you to know that I see the other side too. The side that lights up in the split second you see me after school. The side that needs to cuddle in the quiet after a day out in the world. The side that lights up with the tiniest bit of praise, and the side that craves that affirmation so dearly. The side that sneaks into my bed almost every night.
You’ll go out into the world, and the world will see you armor. But deep down, you’ll want to know that someone sees the other side too. And here I am saying that I see it. And I understand it. And I love it. I love you.
So take the world by storm, but know that when you need shelter, you can find it in my arms. You can find it in me. It’s my job. I’m your mom.
Seeming invincible is fun, but being vulnerable is human. When given the choice, never be afraid to choose the latter.