Dear Ainsley,
Yesterday I made a list of all you'd need.
I folded little dresses because I know they're your favorite.
I tucked jammies in a bag and hoped you'd be happy with my choices.
I included extra under ware even though I can't remember the last time you had an accident.
I searched all over for your Baby Beluga whale, but in the end I had to ask you to take Freddie's.
I picked out the books that you always ask for, the ones that you can recite to me or Daddy at bedtime.
I pulled your pillow and blanket off your bed and stuffed them in a bag.
I packed way too much for such a small girl. A small girl that is getting so big. Big enough to be away from mommy and daddy for a whole week.
You are ready. Grandma asked me months ago if she could keep you for a week, and after I told her I'd think about it, I was sure that you were ready. Six months ago, I would have felt differently. I never questioned if you would be okay or if you would have a blast with Grandma. But I must admit, that as I packed your things I got choked up. I confessed to Daddy that I may have a hard time not crying when I said goodbye to you.
We hugged and kissed you and buckled you safely in your seat. We waved bye as you pulled away and I did cry a little.
The first thing I noticed was how quiet it was in the house. A house that even without you has 4 adults, 1 toddler and 3 dogs, is so quiet without your sweet little voice asking millions of questions never satisfied with the answer. It's so quiet without you singing the songs from Tangled or laughing at the antics of Tom and Jerry.
I didn't have to pick out your clothes this morning. I didn't see that groggy smile spread across your face. I didn't give you a "big hug, big squeeze, kiss, kiss" before I left.
Yes, you are a big girl now and ready for these types of adventures. I worried that you might cry when you left or at bedtime each night, but seems that was all for nothing. Like so many things in motherhood, I think this will be harder on me than on you.
Miss you little bug and see you Friday.
Love,
Mommy
