On Monday afternoon, after a very busy day at your school, I came home and collapsed on the couch. The yucky throat/head/body aches that had been threatening me since late Sunday finally took over and I felt awful. I curled up in a ball in my favorite sweats and tried to wait it out.
I wanted to listen to you tell me about your day.
I wanted to make you and your siblings something for dinner that didn't come out of a box.
I wanted to get going on the laundry.
I wanted to paint your nails.
But I couldn't do any of that. And so I felt even more horrible.
But you, sweet, sensitive you, decided that I needed some mothering for a change and took over. You occupied Austin with books and toys so he wouldn't crawl on me. You reminded Sienna that I wasn't feeling good and helped her with whatever she needed. You refilled my water bottle. Brought me the remote. Tucked my toes under my blanket.
And then, when my heart bubbled over with love for you, you did this:
One by one, you moved every stool and chair out of the kitchen and got to work. You started by sweeping up everything you could, getting down on your hands and knees and pushing everything into the dust pan. And then you got out a wet rag and started scrubbing all the dirty spots that remained.
As Daddy took your picture, I felt immensely proud. Proud of you for seeing a need and filling it, all on your own. Proud that your little heart swells with compassion and wants to help others. Proud that all the hard work you've been doing to be the girl you want to be is paying off. I know who you are. I see who you are. And who you are is kind and good and sweet and loving. Be proud of yourself Hannah. Love who you are and the girl you're becoming. Know that when you're having trouble seeing the world the way you want to, that this girl lives in you. And she is tremendous.