Thursday, April 19, 2012

All the World's a Stage...

Yesterday, our new bedroom furniture was delivered. I let my daughter into the room to see it, and she immediately climbed up on the platform bed and started dancing, stomping, tapping, and skipping around for much longer than her toddler attention span would normally last. When my husband got home from work, she treated him to an encore performance. (And after she went to bed, as we put the mattress in place and made the bed, I felt horribly guilty for depriving her of a dance stage just because of our selfish desire for a comfortable place to sleep.)

I captured a couple of great videos, which I shared with friends and family on Facebook. Everyone says that we should sign her up for tap dance lessons, but that's just a small part of what was going through my head as I watched her dance...

To my daughter:

Adoption involves so many unknowns. In the beginning, all those unknowns can be really hard and challenging. But today, as I watched you dance, I realized that the unknowns can be beautiful and magical too.

Because your Papa and I are both engineers, I tend to assume that your little brother is predestined to grow up to be an engineer, or something similar. My family's strong German pragmatism is almost inevitable.

But you are a Mystery. We know very little about your biological family-- just some names and a little bit of medical information-- so we have no idea what you might grow up to be or to do. Your DNA is your own secret, and since we don't know your history, we can't make assumptions about your future.

So I'm simply going to assume that you have artists, and actors, and athletes, and academics inside of you. I don't know what's in your "nature" so I just hope to nurture you in anything that sparks your interest, whether that includes dance lessons, or musical instruments, or art supplies, or soccer cleats, or cooking classes, or power tools... (And of course, I promise that you will always have plenty of opportunities to go skiing.)

We've been given a magical seed. As your parents, our job is to plant you in a loving home, provide you with the things you need to grow and develop, and protect and watch over you.

You are my beautiful, funny, clever, sweet daughter. You are already so much more than I ever imagined. And my heart is overflowing with happiness because I have the incredible privilege of watching you grow and blossom. You have been, and will always be, a wonderful surprise.


Donna Jacquet said...

This is beautiful. I am in tears. I am so proud of both you and Scott and so very happy in so many ways.

Xander and Alana (but mostly Alana) said...

I love this. But I also think this attitude should be applied to all of our children, regardless of how they entered our family. It's too easy to think we "know" our kids--what they want, what they need, who they will become--and miss out on the surprises because we're so busy satisfying our expectations, looking to see what we expect to see.