Growing by leaps and bounds

I daily mar­vel at my daugh­ter. I expect I'm like most par­ents. But I often get caught in the men­tal rut of baby par­ent­ing, despite the fact that Mallory's eight. The baby par­ent­ing rut assumes the child is totally inca­pable of almost every­thing. But every now and again Mal­lory does some­thing (or sev­eral things) to knock the nee­dle out of that groove.

And I real­ize she's capa­ble of so much more than I imag­ine.

Like in the last few weeks she's started:

  • sleep­ing on her own
  • get­ting up by her­self, leav­ing her par­ents in bed
  • mak­ing her own break­fast (bal­anced, even)
  • mak­ing her own lunch

And she and her friend C slept out in a tent in C's back yard. They attempted it last year, but bailed after a few hours in the dark.

She's also got an email account, and she's surf­ing the net reg­u­larly to find answers to ques­tions, check the weather and all man­ner of things.

So these days I'm even more in awe than usual.

And it struck me that I needed to have the con­ver­sa­tion about the blog. I asked her if it was cool that I wrote about her. I explained that I always write with love and mostly to brag about her or explain my parental fail­ings. But I fig­ure since she and her friends could now poten­tially read it, it's time to seek per­mis­sion.

Which I received. Along with a hug.

I love being her dad. Irene and I are the luck­i­est par­ents.