Deep Thoughts

Today, on our walk/ bike ride, I realized that Emma on her bike is a metaphor for my relationship with her right now.

She wants to pedal ahead of me in life, feel the wind in her helmeted hair, enjoy the thrill of the speed and the independence. But she still needs my security, and needs to be assured that I'm right there, so she checks over her shoulder and meets my eyes every minute or so. When the road gets rough, she slows down, calls my name, wants me to be right there to help her in case she falls. But then life and the road smooths out again, and she's off pedaling with gusto.

Me on the other hand, I don't want her to pedal ahead of me. I want her right next to me, and I find myself picking up my pace to try and keep up with her. I want to be able to catch her, to reassure her, I don't want her to fall and get hurt on the bumps of life. I want to keep her safe. My heart yells "STOP! Slow down!" but my mind knows she is growing up and the space between us is only going to get bigger as she gets more independent and confident on her bike. So I paste a smile on my face, meet her eye when she turns her head to meet mine, and try to just enjoy the moment of the sunny day and an enjoyable walk.

Kindergarten just might do my heart in next year.