I haven't done a Lucy post in so very long. Life has been full, and busy, and crazy. And some days, we just barely survive until the next. But look at my girl. My.heart.is.melting. This year has been a learning experience as parents. We have learned that we don't need to push her quite as much as we have. When she is ready to go down the big slide, she will. And when she wants to put her head under water at the swimming pool, she will do that too. And once she decides, that's that. She's a fish, she's a big/kid/slide aficionado. The same with ballet. Her very first day she cried and cried. She didn't want to wear the tights. She wouldn't put on her shoes. And I wondered, what is doing right by her. Should I push her. Should I wait a little bit longer? What's the balance between wanting the very best, and knowing, she will soon love a thing, and giving her space and time to figure her world out on her own.
One of my favorite Lucy moments ever was the Christmas ballet performance. She was a bear. She stood the entire time, while the class performed around her. And then, at the very, very end, running back to behind the curtain, Lucy Bear did a little skip. I almost died of laughing. That little skip, will forever be in my heart.
And here she is now. A big sister. Growing out her hair. Trying new adventures. My sleeping beauty lover, pink fanatic, who calls seeds siths and makes her brother laugh like there is no tomorrow. The girl who tells me I'm doing a really good job, when I struggle to figure out how to do a bun, and tells me she loves my red hair so much. She is my free spirit, twirling to her own song. The one who waives at mom and dad during her performance, follows each step, with a big grin on her face, and walks into the curtain on the way off the stage, from pure excitement.
Lucy, Lucy, Lucy, you are my joy song. My wild heart.