And darling, I’m sure it was just a moment ago that you were spouting invectives against cherries, bedtime rituals, and shoes; when you decided unflinchingly that you would never don another pair of pants, when you announced one morning that you were done suckling from my breast, when you decided Daddy was your favorite human in the universe.
It really was just second ago that you - out of the blue - sang the ABC song you’d learned at preschool; when you learned to put on your jacket unassisted by flipping it over your head; when you Velcroed your shoes in triumph. And just a second ago that you were big enough to help me roll out cookies, apply your own icing, and pour sprinkles straight into your mouth.
But I won’t. I swear a thousand oaths that I will not hold you back; I will cheer as you run farther and farther and taller and taller. I will kiss your scraped knees when you fall, but I won’t hold you down. Go forth, my darling daughter, my impossibly big five-year-old; go run, jump, twirl, laugh, splash, fall, and grow.
You are magnificent.