Growing up

“Duck!” that was my littlest first word as she pointed to a little blow up duck that quacked when you squeezed it.  She turned with such delight on her face; it was almost like she knew that she said it right.  That’s all she said for about the next three hours. 

            Soon, it began to be mom, dad, Blake, Brad, grandma, and many more words. Those words started to be little phrases, then full out sentences. I was so happy she could talk.

            At the age of one she met her neighbor, but didn’t really start playing with her until the age of two. This was my little daughter’s best friend, Michelle. They lived next door, which made it very convenient for Michelle’s mother and me; we didn’t have to drive anywhere. They would play for hours and hours day after day. They surprisingly never got sick of seeing each other. It kept her very busy and occupied. I was happy she has a best friend, and thought that would only last for a couple of years or so, but I was wrong about that.  It became very normal to say Brooke and Michelle together almost as one name. 

            Then, came the dreaded day of preschool. I think it was harder for me than Brooke.  She already had a friend Michelle there and knew another girl named Hannah. I just had to keep telling myself that she was going to be fine, but it was hard to make myself believe that. I wanted her to stay home with me, but she had to go. 

Of course she had no problem going in there after she saw Michelle there. She made new friends very quickly. Brooke was very social and always wanted to meet new people. She knew almost every one in the class and would know something interesting about them. She had those social skills from her father.

Brooke and Michelle loved preschool and would talk about how much fun they had and what they learned every single day. I thought that friendship would end there, but it continued for many years.