Dear Hazel, I had grand intentions of writing this letter on your first day of kindergarten, and then that plan went to crumbs, as many lovely plans do, though by now I reckon you know that your mother, while well-meaning, has a tendency to arrive somewhere beyond fashionably late. So here we are, 4 weeks in, and I’m glad I waited. The stories you come home with each day are my daily delights. Last week you mentioned some of the boys were being particularly persnickety, taunting the girls, chanting “X all the girls!” You approached one boy with a simple question with a simple answer. “Do you like your mom?” you asked. “Because you’ve just X’ed her.” The boy didn’t have much to say in return, a situation your father and I have found ourselves in a few times. I always say you burst into my life with all the subtly of a falling star: on fire, alive, a bit angry and absolutely gorgeous. Not much has changed in that department, my darling. You continue to burn bright. Your mind continues to dazzle me. I watch you play chess and read books and solve problems with this eerie ability to find a solution that works for everyone, and I am . . . dumbfounded. At a very early age we taught you the concept of compromising, and it seems to have been a gateway that’s led you to understand there are answers beyond yes and no and to these you stretch and yearn to comprehend. Although infuriating at times, because occasionally I’d like to toss out an old adage such as “Because I said so” and have it stick, the fact is we taught you to reason with respect and it’s something you do beautifully. At 5 1⁄2 your tantrums have waned, though you make up for this with much vigor when you DO decide to fall apart. It’s challenging to find ways to describe you, using words such as creative, nurturing, intelligent, and intense (all true things) without also sharing the ways in which you embody these characteristics. The scary truth is you are well on your way to being smarter than I am. I wonder about that. I wonder if you’ll have use for your mama when you begin exploring territory I’ve only heard about in books. I smile as I ponder. CONT. Below.