Yesterday, we watched The Neverending Story, and talked about the nature of story, the human imagination, and animatronics. And then you walked around our apartment holding a mirror up as though it were a camera, interviewing stuffed animals and filming your own movie. Your little sister, looking perplexed, whispered to me, “Kelsey is talking to herself,” and I laughed.
You were afraid of the Nothing, and of G’mork, the wolf-like antagonist. I thought you might run or cry at the part when he attacks the hero, Atreyu. But we talked about the machine that makes the creature move and talk, and although you said you were scared, you were so brave.
And I flashed back to your first frightened cries, when you were naked and crying and writhing on the scale at the hospital, and how desperately I wanted to save you and wrap myself around you to comfort you. And of your first bath, when you stared in wild-eyed terror as I bathed your head and shoulders in warm water, giving up after a short time to scoop you up in a towel and put you to my breast. You comfort so easily. You never hold a grudge. The terror flees from your body so quickly.
Even today, you are quick to tears, yet can go from tears to laughing uproariously with a tickle or a joke. I love that a cuddle can still change your mood from bad to good.
It’s amazing to see how gently you treat the world around you. You have a smile for everyone. Babies and dogs fascinate you, and younger children follow you around. You are a born nurturer. It makes me fear for you a little. I know I have to continue to prepare you for this world. I can’t trust that it will treat you justly and gently in return.
You tend more toward whimsy and silly than serious and studious, yet your grades couldn’t be higher. Your teachers consistently have only positive comments about how hard you work and how much you participate in class. You love reading and art and physical education, and you tolerate math. Bugs and slimy amphibians and reptiles fascinate you, and you aren’t afraid to dig in the dirt and get filthy.
Right now, with your adult-sized ears, long slender legs, and lack of front teeth, you are awkward! But you pull it off. Your self esteem is positively infectious. You like the way you look, and it’s reflected in your smile and body language. More than that, though, you like WHO you are. Sometimes I watch while you try on other behaviors or follow the crowd, but you always come back to yourself.
Your rebellions sometimes test my limits, but I know you’re continually recalibrating your relationship with me and gaining confidence and autonomy. We clash sometimes because we are a lot alike. I think you are trying to separate from me, and I admit that it hurts me. But I’m also so proud of you for trying to find your own path.
Happy 7th Birthday, Kelsey Grace.