When Sensei Dave asked who wanted to lead the next exercises, most of the hands in the karate class went up. He chose my daughter, Nugget.
She moved to the front of the class and shouted, “Pushups!” She then proceeded to lead the class through the exercise. She counted out to 10 in Japanese, as is custom in all Soul Karate classes. Then proceeded to lead the class in “Superman” stretches. She was assertive and confident. She has come a long way since a doctor handed her to me seven years ago on a rainy May evening.
Nugget at age 7 doesn’t just count in Japanese. She reads, writes, knows how to use YouTube, and even has a nemesis. She is a master builder with her Lego blocks. It took me hours to build her Elsa’s Castle at Christmas, now she routinely puts together very complex sets all by herself … and usually much quicker than I do. She is such a sweet little girl who is so full of life. She barely spoke before she was 2 1/2 and now try to stop her. You can’t.
I watch her when I have lunch duty at school and, like a grownup, she has tiers of friends: besties, acquaintances and frenemies. It is amazing seeing her interact with her peers. It is amazing because, as parents, it feels as within a blink of an eye our babies are now children. These babies who need us to do everything for them become real people. And Nugget is certainly real people.
I used to joke that her feet never touched the ground until after her first birthday. She still likes being carried. And, to be honest, I still like carrying her around.
A version of this first appeared on Great Moments in Bad Parenting.
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