I enrolled Annabel in an art class this summer. It was every day for one week from 1:45 PM to 3:00 PM. The class was called “Clay for Tiny Hands” and I just kept thinking about that “tiny” part.
Annabel is my baby and I’m already freaked out about her starting preschool in the Fall. She just seems too, well, tiny. She’s only three years old. To ease my fears about her starting school where she will be dropped off and left for the first time EVER, I decided the art class would be a good warm up. (Also because my son had a bit of separation anxiety when I first dropped him off alone. I didn’t know whether that was personality driven or the fact that I’m a stay-at-home mom and they are with me all the time.)
Well, Annabel LOVED her clay class. She also had no problem with me leaving her there for the full 75 minutes. She’s a thinker, like her brother, so I could see the thoughts whirling around in her head when she entered the studio for the first time. She looked excited and overwhelmed and observant all at the same time. But mostly, she looked confident.
It’s just so cool to learn something new about your kid. It happens a lot at this age. Every new opportunity is another opportunity for me to uncover another piece of the puzzle that makes up my daughter.
It may have been “Clay for Tiny Hands” but she really isn’t tiny anymore. She is my big girl. My big girl who makes friends and asks a millions questions and walks into art class all by herself. I’m a little sad and my heart is bursting. But mostly, I’m just so proud.
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