Dear Ella

I started this in early March, got into a writing rut and just never finished it.  It's a bit outdated now but too far along not to finish and share.  I hope it still works...

Dear My 5-year-old, Ella,

I watched you sleep the night of your birthday party for just a few minutes before I finally went to bed myself.  It's not uncommon for me to stare at you in your sleeping state and marvel in your mere existence; but this time... this time, I sat on the edge of your bed and just watched you and took you in after a full day of people celebrating you.

You were so still, so calm and relaxed, so peaceful.  That you had spent the better part of your bedtime routine shouting at the world and upset with the consequences of doing so didn't even show.  You were getting the rest you clearly needed and doing it well, like most things you do.

I stroked your forehead with my hand a few times, the first time to move a couple of long strands of your beautiful blonde hair away from your face, the others because Grandma would do that to me when I was your age (and older); and it was just natural -- I vividly remember the feeling of her hand pressing down on my forehead not softly but not strong, either, just enough to have a soothing effect on me.  It's not that you needed soothing that night.  I think I needed to do it for you.  I needed the soothing, and my hand on your forehead was my way to get it.

I thought about the day and the things that had made me sad about the day.  Imagine that -- I was sad on the day we were celebrating you turning five.  I thought about how I felt as I sat on the bench on the side of the pool, noting the kids who were at your party.  Only two of your little friends were there, and only three even responded.  Many of your cousins were there, which was nice; but they have to be there, not to diminish their love for you and their significance in your life.  Only 2 friends, one of whom I barely even know.

I started thinking and wondering why that is... why only two friends?  How is it that Cal had 15+ kids at his 5th birthday party, none of whom were even cousins, and you only had two?

Maybe it's entirely explained by your experience at daycare -- really, school -- being so different from your brother's.  His was so easy and natural.  The school was vibrant.  People were excited to be there and proud to have their kids enrolled in school there.  There were so many kids, and they were so close.  We knew all of the kids and many of their parents, and I don't even really know how that happened.  Maybe if I spend some time thinking about it, I could figure that out; but it doesn't matter.  Cal's experience was different. 

Your experience has just not been as good, not necessarily from the start, but certainly for the past 2-3 years.  Many teachers have left, unhappy with the school's administration.  I'd need two hands to count your little friends who have left, mostly unannounced, for a start-up school down the road.  They, too, were unhappy with the school's administration and high teacher turnover rate.

We thought about leaving; but your relationship with Ms. Tawania is so strong, so positive, and so fruitful that we felt like we had to stay to see that through.  She's wonderful.  That is one thing that you have in common with Cal -- we credit Ms. Ally for Cal being more than ready for Kindergarten, and I expect to be saying the same about Ms. Tawania and you in the Fall.

Given that gap, I keep wondering if somehow I'm failing you.  I feel like it's my job, not to make your friends for you, but to put you in positions for you to make friends, to cultivate friendships.  And that's just not happening.  It's not happening at school, and I'm not finding an alternative for you.  You've made several pleas to have a playdate, and I just never acted on them.  I'm sorry I never did set up that playdate with Colton Stewart... or Keira... or Wrigley... or Aryn... and most recently Ms. Tawania herself.  You asked me, and I didn't.

It's not that I didn't or don't want for you to have a playdate.  I want more than anything for you to have friends.  Setting one up would be a simple email exchange with a fellow mom.  But a playdate at your age still requires small talk on my part, and I'm not great at that, nor do I enjoy it.  I know it'll most likely end up being two hours of an unshared discomfort where I can't and don't want to match the stories of your friend's mom about your friend's many activities and familiarity with all of the goings on at school.

I know, you're five.  I don't remember who my friends were when I was five, if I even had any friends.  It's right around when we moved to Illinois, so it's very likely that I didn't!  
I started making friends that stuck when I got into grade school, and I'm sure that'll happen for you, too.  That you don't have a lot of friends or a single close friend now is probably not any big deal.

You were so happy on the day of your birthday party, and I should have focused on that.  I saw it.  I watched you follow the instructions for the pool games to a T, better than even your older cousins and brother.  I was so proud of you.  I watched you swim -- you're such a good swimmer!  I watched you try to dance to the "Whip/Nae Nae" song and laugh while you did.  I watched you smile... and smile that beautiful, toothless smile some more.  I know you enjoyed yourself and probably didn't notice or care about the absence of friends.

I'm excited for you to start Kindergarten in the Fall. I think you and I both need it -- a new start, new faces, new opportunities to make friends.  I promise to make sure that happens.  The world deserves to experience you.

Anyway, I love you and hope I'm doing right by you, Ellie.

Mommy