In my first glimpse at Kate I wondered and hoped at all the potentials housed in that tiny little person. I daydreamed about the wide variety of experiences she would have and, hopefully, the contributions she would make.
One specific fantasy included a bubbly, bouncing girl releve-ing, and tondu-ing around a dance floor. And her she is, living out that dream. Long new-born nights seemed endless and made two-year-old days like these seem barely visible on the horizon, but they have come into plain view so rapidly.
I know someday I will feel similarly when an awkward kid knocks on our door to pick up Kate for her first date or when boxes full of her stuff leave with her for college. It is hardly within my comprehension that this little baby of mine will grow up to be a woman; probably marry, have kids, grandkids, and live a long life. I have realized that time marches on without my permission, and these potentials will become realities in the blink of an eye. I survived those new-born nights on the sustenance of the hope that they would end, the sooner, the better. Now, I find my joy and sustenance comes in the hope that they won't.
PS I think I found the secret to happiness... watching a two year old ballet class ensures happiness for the viewer for at least a week. Every time I envision those little girls doing their best to follow "teacher Katie", I smile. Or when I think of Kate watching herself in the big mirrors more than the teacher. So cute.
