A couple weeks ago, mask mandates were lifted at school. For the first time in two years my kids went into their classrooms to breath fresh air, see the faces of their classmates, speak without shouting through a face covering, and reveal their bright smiles.
With Covid numbers dramatically decreasing and with vaccinations, I was and am in a different position on masking than early on in the pandemic. That is, I had no hesitation letting all three of them go sans mask. And their ease, excitement, and energy to live life unmasked confirmed my decision.
That same day, I also had the opportunity to volunteer in Mary's classroom, hosting their classroom's Valentine's Day party. It was an easy thing to do - a simple story reading, a craft connected with the narrative, and then a couple games. It went just as expected, except something threw me off. Or rather someone. It was Mary. The Mary I knew from a couple years ago. Smiling, giggling, coming up to her friends and telling them something, giving me a hug halfway through the event. It was sociability, connectedness, and confidence - all things that Mary had said she was concerned about in the past year.
I left the classroom that day happy that I had carved out some time to volunteer, but happier that I experienced an uptick in Mary's mood.
That evening, I told Peter about the party and the very different daughter I observed in class. 'You should have seen her,' I said to him. 'I don't think she has any issues socializing.'
Without pause Peter replied, "it's because she's not wearing a mask."
I stood there in disbelief for a second. How did I not think about that? Of course. If I can trace back the development of Mary feeling more shy, more concerned, more house bound than the rest of my kids, it was the start of the Pandemic. The lockdowns, the distance between one human and another, the face shields we all put up to protect ourselves and others. Not knowing that these precautions could have a detrimental impact on a person's mental well being.
In the last three weeks, in a world unmasked, I have witnessed Mary become more confident, excited about school, in touch with her friends, willing to go on playdates, and in love with life. As the schools relaxed their mask mandates, so did work, so did businesses, so did cities big and small. With unmasking, other Covid era rules started to relax as well. For instance, I was in Sun Valley a couple weekends ago, and at church there were hymnals. Actual hymnals! I haven't held one and sang from it in two years. We also exchanged the sign of peace - not just a wave from across the aisle, but a true shake of the hand. It's small things, but they make me feel more human.
Anyway, back to Mary. She turned nine this week. NINE! Nine years since I became a mom for the first time. Nine years since Peter and I became a parental unit. Nine years of Mary growing and learning in this world, becoming the beautiful little lady that she is. And those are three words that really perfectly describe her.
- Beautiful. Inside and out. She is aware of her image at this age and loves when I let her wear a little bit of make up and do her hair. She loves clothes and shoes, particularly when they are purchased by Nana at Little's. And she loves sharing her trade secrets with her little sister. But her beauty runs deep. She has a kind, compassionate heart. She asks questions and makes comments that show how much she cares.
- Little. She is petite and still growing into a size 8. Seeing her swim competitively this winter, against girls two times her size, showed just how mighty her petite frame is though. And while she wants to be grown up at times, she still very much loves being a child. She needs hugs, and care, and someone to help her, and isn't afraid to ask for those things.
- Lady. She is mature for her age, an old soul as our neighbor calls her, and ever my big helper. At 8 and now 9, she's done so much for me around the house; helping with the babies, pitching in with cooking and sometimes cleaning, shepherding her younger siblings, testing out the world before they have to, and coaching them on her experiences.
And we celebrated her last weekend and into this week, hosting dinner and a sleep under for some of her friends, inviting the family over for her favorite meal (which took hours to make on Sunday), taking her out to Sushi, just me and Peter, just as we did on the day she was born. Sushi and champagne will always be the meal that commemorates not only the day Mary was born, but the day we became a family.
Happy birthday Mary, I love you so much.
Mommy / Lo.
