Dorothy seems to have inherited her father’s enjoyment of running, as opposed to her mother’s enjoyment of NOT running, which is probably a good thing. We entered her in a 5-and-under road race this past weekend and she had a blast. The event was close to our home so we just walked over with her spectating grandparents. She is incredibly proud of her participation medal, which she won’t let me put in a shadow-box frame because “it might not be safe enough,” (which I think means “because I wouldn’t have constant access to it”) and we’ve watched the video I took of her running approximately 1000 times.
And I’m feeling just a bit nostalgic about these last sweet days before my girl starts preschool. Although she’ll probably be coming back home when it’s over (we’re intending to homeschool), this year will still mark a major change in her life, and loss of innocence. I’m excited about the preschool she is attending and I know it’s going to be a great experience, but her wild and free time of babyhood and unselfconscious exploration at my side is coming to an end. Here is a photo of her doing her own thing, in one of these final days with nowhere to be: her teddy bear hooked to her back, her Halloween socks and ruby slippers, her hair finally growing out of the self-inflicted short cut, her hands full of one of her many independent sewing “projects,” which involve snippets and scraps sewn together haphazardly but with grand intention (a backpack, a shirt for Maggie, a quilt, etc.).