Pecking Order

Now that Morgan is in school full time, I have had to be a little more selective about the number and types of projects I decide to keep in her scrapbook. In addition to the standard construction paper and pasta projects, Morgan has reading, science, and math examples for me to sort out. When I opened her backpack on Friday, I was delighted to see what I thought might serve as her overall Kindergarten keepsake piece...the stick figure family portrait.

What first caught my eye was Morgan's little attempt at cursive. I remember spending hours and hours writing my name, swirling my letters across the page in long, dramatic strokes.  What I loved even more was that Morgan is trying to learn cursive on her own...half the kids in her class are still trying to make sure they can write in a straight line.

But what I REALLY loved is what I read on the rest of the page. The phrase "tallest to shortest" has a particular meaning in our house. For those of you who don't know, David and I met online. This meant  filling out lots of online profiles that made us both appear to be more attractive and more interesting than we are in real life. Rather than consider them outright lies, David likes to refer to some of his embellishments as part of his overall sales pitch to get me to have dinner with him. One of the biggest overstatements in his profile was his height. David Lorenzo is not now, nor has he ever been, 5'9" - never.

And now our lovely daughter has captured the truth for all time and eternity. According to this picture, I've got David beat by at least two feet...and I'm only 5'7" -

Thank you, Morgan. For keeping your dad humble and for giving your mom yet one more reason to throw out "I told you so."  

Insight

Her brows were furrowed, thoughtful and reflective as she quietly ate her sandwich. It was just the two of us yesterday, as David is away this weekend.

"Mom, I think I'm changing."

"Changing, changing how?" I watched her face intently, unsure of where her words were headed.

"I think I am becoming a different person."

"How can you become a different person?"

"Well, I have been making a lot of good choices these days, and you make good choices, so I think that means I am changing. I am just growing up a lot, Mom."

As she spoke, I watched her relax into her chair. The apples of her cheeks were flush, a slight smile turning up the corners of her mouth. She was both proud and relieved at her observation.

We finished our lunch in silence, occasionally sharing the knowing glance of two people carrying the same secret.  She is indeed changing, and we both know it. It's just that only one of us was brave enough to say it.