I am both honored and excited to be participating in a special blog circle called Letters to Our Children along with several other incredibly talented photographers. Each month I will write a letter to my lovely daughter, as I attempt to capture her personality and spirit, while documenting this special and fleeting time of her life. As time seems to perpetually increase in its speed, I strive to find a way to articulate just how much I love her, and to hopefully make time pause, even if just for a few moments, during these moments of reflection on my sweet girl.
My tiny dancer. My sweet little sprite. This past week was your first week at dance. Dance camp, to be precise. 6 straight days of dance. My mama heart was bursting from the sweetness and the pride. It was a week of all things girly – hair up each morning in a little ballerina bun, pink tights, dance leotards, and sweet tiny ballet shoes and tap shoes (seriously, it’s a good thing that your feet just grew because they didn’t have anything smaller than a 5.5, and even those were a touch big on your itty-bitty feet). And we both loved every second of it. Each morning, we would sit at the dining room table and do your hair. And each morning, you had to run off to go look in the mirror (and proclaim yourself as “adorable!”) as soon as I finished.
I concur. Definitely adorable.
You had so much fun at dance camp. You loved the noise that your tap shoes made when you tapped your feet. You loved gluing your heels down and tapping your toes.
You danced like a little ballerina, pranced around the studio with ribbon, learned all the stretches that ballerinas do, and you loved every second of it. So much so that I had to sign you up for a second week of dance camp for later this month. And of course, you’ll have to add dance class to your busy schedule this year. Preschool, gymnastics, and dance. I have no idea how I have such a big girl already. So busy with activities – I learn more about you as you discover new passions that you want to explore.
It’s hard for me to believe sometimes that you are growing up as fast as you are. I feel like I was just holding you in my arms as a baby, and now you are a little girl exploring new things on your own. I get a little nostalgic for when you were my tiny baby. But I love this age of yours so much that it’s hard to get too sad. My dancer, my sprite, your personality is emerging more and more each day, and I love my front row seat as I watch it all unfold.
I love you my girl!
Now, please continue on in the blog circle and read the next letter by Tricia Ebarvia.