Growing

Lyla, I am so fortunate to be your father. Sometimes, though, that fortune is difficult. You grow to fast. I don't get to spend enough time with each phase of you. As you grow, physically, mentally, and emotionally, you become in many ways a new person every few months, sometimes across an even shorter time span. Lately, we've had to let go of some things we've done, almost since you were old enough to walk. You used to come running into my office every morning and jump into my lap and give me the best good morning hugs. Many times you'd sit in my lap for minutes, telling me about your plans for the day, until your desire for chocolate milk outgrew your desire to talk to me. Then, on our way downstairs, you'd get on my shoulders. You absolutely loved getting on my shoulders, especially as you grew and could start touching pieces of the house that were high up (lights).

But now you've grown. You don't run into my office any more and jump into my lap. You're too big. You know the chair may slide across the floor (I've been looping my leg around a table leg for months to stop that). You know you'll definitely bang your knees. So, now you slink in a little slowly and climb sideways onto my lap. I still get a hug, but it's a sideways hug and your energy is different. Slower. When we go downstairs, you don't get on my shoulders anymore. I can still hold you. But, you've bumped your head one too many times on the lights or other things you used to cherish barely being able to touch. So, now you don't even ask. We hold hands and walk down the stairs talking to each other about your plans for the day.

As you grow, I will miss the things that we leave by the wayside, either because you've physically outgrown them or because you've mentally/emotionally outgrown them (you've figured out mermaids aren't real and therefore Ariel can't be real). I know that we will find new things that we will do together and these will also be amazing. But, it is hard to let go of one wonderful Lyla as she transitions to a new wonderful Lyla. I don't have any choice of course, as you remind me almost every day. "I have to grow Poppy!"

I love you kiddo.

PS. I refuse to relinquish the right to call you kiddo, even when you're 40.