My beautiful Sweet Pea has been emotional for the last 10 days or so, quite clingy, and not quite herself sometimes. I've been wondering what was going on, but was unable to pinpoint it. Tonight, I think I am better able to understand. Tonight, after bedtime prayers, my sweet, sassy, perfectly quirky little princess opened the window to her heart for me, for one of the very first times in a way that both nearly broke my own heart, and amazed me with the depth of her self-knowledge and ability to articulate her emotions with clarity beyond her young three-years. I had kissed her goodnight, as she said to me (roughly, edited to remove some names), "Mama, my friends don't see me anymore and play with me and don't like me anymore. They're my best friends and I love them and I miss them."
You see, almost two weeks ago, she went through a big transition at daycare, where she spends the majority of her time. She moved from one floor to the next, from young toddler rooms to older rooms where the preschoolers are growing up. And, while it isn't a big deal geographically, or in many ways, it dawned on me tonight, that it's a big change to her.
She's been making it seem pretty breezy and not that big of a deal, even though her mama was sad about it at first. She loves the kids and staff upstairs and will thrive and flourish in the new environment, and I haven't been worried about it at all.
It's a common thought, even for adults, so I was blown away by her innocent little saddened heart.
After comforting her and reassuring her that she is loved, that her friends miss her, and some will soon be back in the same room as her with the new schedule, teachers, friends, and environment, I left the room and began thinking about what had just occurred. I understand where she's coming from.
Her previous transitions at daycare have all been on one floor, with schedules that are relatively similar, where she would see the same people passing in hallways. Her last transitions were done at a younger age where, while still forming attachments to teachers and children, she wasn't as mature and able to process and fear things like she does now.
Not only that, but on another level, I can feel her equating that to some of her past experiences where he dad was absent from her life.
And I can understand why she may feel that gaps in time and distance can affect relationships.
I mean, really, they often do. Only the strong ones survive and grow, I suppose. It's amazing to me that she is so young and already experiencing these sort of friendship quandaries.
So, to my darling little three-year-old, her heart is in some sort of jeopardy, and it's my blessing and burden to calm her fears and speak life, truth, and love into her heart, just as with her brothers. I try to build up their store-houses with these things, to help build their self-esteem, knowing that the way of the world is often to bring you down. I never want my children to feel worthless, unloved, or anything other than of exceptional value and worthy of the deepest, most sincere love on earth.
They're treasures, and they should know it.
While this moment where the window was open was over an insecurity, I am so fortunate that she chose to open up to me, share her deepest fear at this moment with me, and trusted me with her heart. I wish I could make her feel better, but aside from praying, which we did, only time will heal.
And, my darling, my sweet, sweet girl, I can assure you, you are worth missing, and you are loved by those that you miss right now.