I had no idea she was in need of a diary....or that she even had private thoughts in her head that were awaiting release in an appropriately bound diary. With a lock. Secret thoughts! Secret from her mother! I freaked a little, but then she offered me her extra key for safekeeping, which must mean she trusts me, right?
Anyway, she scurried off and appeared again only after I called her three times for dinner, and after she ate it was back to the salt mines for her, writing writing writing. Just before bed, she brought me her diary and asked if I wanted to look at it. Which...of course! I was dying to see what all these repressed thoughts and ideas looked like on the page. I also wanted to get an idea of what her therapy was going to cost down the line. So I said yes. Calmly, of course, so that I wouldn't freak her out before she let me read the goods. Also, she gave me permission to share it with you all. Score!
Something about seeing her name in print in her very first diary made me feel about seventy years old, and I cannot believe my baby girl is old enough to be writing about boys in her diary. Okay, maybe I'm projecting. It was me that always wrote about boys in my diary. When I was seven I was head over heels in love with a boy named Drew. I finally got up the courage to invite him over to my house to show him my pet bunny rabbit Thumper. I knew it was going to be a turning point in our bourgeoning relationship, but when we got out to the garage, the rabbit was dead in it's cage. It kind of threw a wrench into everything, and talk about an awkward moment! I mean, who is going to ask someone out over a rabbit corpse? Not Drew, that's for sure. I totally blame Thumper's early demise for the fact that Pedro, a boy who was completely obsessed with GI JOES and who, for many years, I was convinced actually got to America in a rowboat, was my first boyfriend instead of Drew, my true love. I was left to relate it all to the diary, and let me tell you, that was a whopper of an entry.
I digress with many commas. Point is, I was both anxious and slightly scared to see what she'd been writing about so studiously. So I turned the page, and saw this:
Is this not the sweetest kid you've ever met? Her first diary entry all about people she loves. And afterward, she felt terrible because she kept thinking of more people she loved but ran out of room, so she wrote "I love everything!" at the bottom. She cannot stand hurting anyone's feelings.
And the next page:
Her love is strong, y'all. And the reason I can't seem to stop laughing every time I look at that page of her diary? I had to ask her to add an "s" in a very strategic location of the word she undoubtedly meant to be "horses" before it was fit for blog consumption.
Kids crack me up. Ava at six is kind of awesome, too. My love is strong for that one.
