<\/p>\n
There\u2019s a little girl in Penny\u2019s class who always arrives with armfuls of stuff. A transformer. A wooden crawfish. A princess. A baby doll. Something different every day, thrust into the hands of her teachers.<\/p>\n
Penny has never been particularly impressed with stuff. She shares pretty easily. She rarely insists on a particular article of clothing. If \u201cMr. Bear\u201d is not available at bedtime, she protests, but she gets over it without tears. <\/p>\n
So I was somewhat surprised last week when she started adding items to her school bag. First it was a Cookie Monster sticker. Then a bean bag. Then a drawing. Each time, she said, \u201cI want to show Miss Katie, Mom.\u201d We got to school and Penny, a bit shy, pulled out the object and passed it along to her teacher. <\/p>\n
I don\u2019t know of a developmental chart that measures for this new trait. I\u2019m not sure that it says anything about Penny\u2019s cognitive ability or social skills. But I\u2019m pretty sure that it says something about growing up. <\/p>\n
Peter and I go out to dinner once a week. And I find myself storing up things to tell him\u2014the way William called the ducks \u201cquack, quack\u201d at the beach, the email I received from a friend I haven\u2019t heard from in a while, my response to a story on NPR. Somehow, whether it is mundane details of my day or profound news, telling him makes it seem complete. Love is like that. It spills over. It can\u2019t be contained. <\/p>\n
Penny\u2019s newest trait\u2014\u201cI want to show Miss Katie, Mom\u201d\u2014is more than just a four-year old bringing toys to her teacher. It\u2019s Penny inviting Miss Katie to share her life. It\u2019s Penny, on some level, recognizing that she has something to give. It\u2019s Penny showing love through a Cookie Monster Sticker. It\u2019s Penny having a taste of joy. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There\u2019s a little girl in Penny\u2019s class who always arrives with armfuls of stuff. A transformer. A wooden crawfish. A princess. A baby doll. Something different every day, thrust into the hands of her teachers. Penny has never been particularly impressed with stuff. She shares pretty easily. She rarely insists on a particular article of…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":88,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-35","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-family"],"yoast_head":"\n