Heavy Backpack

Tomorrow is Little One's first day at a new school.
She was sad to learn, at registration, that She won't be allowed to bring Her special pink backpack from Grandma.  The one with Her name on it.
All the kids at Her school are required to carry the same standard-issue, boring black backpack with the school logo.  For the low, mandatory price of $30.  Ahem.  But! The headmistress explained to me, they are allowed to decorate them.  However they want. 
So we've gone around to various thrift and craft stores, we've raided our art cabinet.  Little One made all the choices.  And today during Missy's nap, we had a special project time. Just Little One, me, boring backpack, and a glue gun.  We made pins of everything deemed pretty by Little One, and then She very carefully, deliberately, showed me precisely where each pin was to go.  In the end, we have this backpack.

Which is anything but ordinary.  She also chose Her own first-day-of-school outfit.  She was allowed to pick whatever She wanted. Because She is Little One, She immediately chose the dress I bought Her, second-hand for practically nothing, but haven't let Her wear yet.  Because it is white silk dupioni and dry clean only.  But it is a frothy, shimmery confection of a dress. Cut to look like it is made of flower petals, with pink silk roses along the waist.  It has been coveted by Little One for months.
Together we filled the dazzling backpack with all the necessities; epipen, inhaler, medical forms.  Together we laid out the fluffy dress for the morning, giggling with excitement.
But today Little One has been off.  Distracted, quiet.  Scolded for not listening, following me like a puppy.  When we talked about school tomorrow She'd say how excited She is, then chew Her nails.
I realized.  She's nervous.
"I don't know any persons here", She fretted at dinner, picking at Her food. 
I realized my almost four year-old is just about to step into that unending world of Caring What Other People Think.  Of cool and uncool.  All that.  For the first time I thought about the crazy backpack, the outlandishly fancy dress, with a drop of trepidation.  What if....  what if She's old enough to fit in or not fit in? What if She's teased for being unusual?  At not-yet-four, at a Montessori school, I can't think it will really matter so much.  Right?  But I feel a little tug at my heart, a tiny hint of what will come in another five years.  Being a kid can be hard. 
I thought about it through the afternoon.  I thought about it while they played in the dirt, while I washed them and lotioned their mosquito bites.  I decided that the last thing I want to do is plant an insecurity.  So as far as I'm concerned the backpack and the dress and anything else She likes to express Herself with is awesome.  Because as far as I'm concerned, SHE is awesome.
But just in case.  I talked to Her after dinner.

C: "Little One, look at that lovely dress you chose for school! You will be so shimmery tomorrow! You will look lovely in that dress."

LO (blushing a little): "Oh, t'ank you mamma! I'm going to wear it all the day and I will do great spins in that dress!"

C: "You surely will.  But can I make sure you know something?"

LO: "Yes, Mamma. Tell me."

C: "You will look pretty in that dress, because you are always pretty.  The dress is fun, but it doesn't make you pretty.  What makes you so beautiful, my pretty girl?"

LO: "Aw....I don't know..."

C: "I do.  What makes you pretty is that you walk tall and proud.  That you act with kindness.  And you smile from your heart.  That is what makes a person beautiful."

LO: "I do like smiling."

C: "Yes. Your smile is great!  And you can wear it any time.  So if you want to wear that dress tomorrow because you feel comfy in it and you like it, that's great.  But you are beautiful with or without it, ok?"

LO: "Ok."

C: "One more thing.  That dress is fun, and very fancy.  But sometimes it is hard to play in very fancy clothes.  So, I packed you some nice, regular clothes in your new backpack.  At school tomorrow, if you find it's a little hard to play or be comfy in your dress, you can change any time.  But you don't have to.  Ok? It's up to you." 

LO (beaming): "Ok thank you mommy! That's a great idea you have there. I can just do anything, right?"

C: "Yes.  You can choose whatever you want. Tomorrow I want you to listen to your teacher, and to just have fun!"

LO: "I will!"

We read our stories and brushed teeth and I tucked Her in.  But when She gave me the usual goodnight hug, She locked Her arms and wouldn't release me.  After a few seconds, my reaction was to get impatient.  It was getting late, I had chores to finish, She had an early morning coming.  But before I shook Her off, I quieted my mind and listened.  She was breathing hard and really squeezing tight.  Like She needed that extra hug.  So I cozied in and asked Her if She was ok.

LO: "Yes mommy.  Yes.  But. Well just...I just want to hold on tight! I.Just.Love.You.More.Than.Anything!"

C: "Angel, I love you too."

LO: "But I just LOVE you Mommy and I don't WANT to EVER let you go! I won't! I won't let go! I don't want to let you ever ever go!"

C: "Oh, Little One.  I understand.  Sometimes, I feel like I don't want to let you go, either." 

Little One relaxed, but still circled my neck.
LO: "Yeah, mommy.  Me too."

I stayed with Her for about five minutes, in the silence. Finally, She squeezed extra tight, counted to ten, and then unlaced Her fingers.
I looked at Her and saw Her eyes squeezed shut, as if She had jumped and was bracing.
I kissed Her forehead, and held Her in a hug.
"Goodnight, my Little One.  I will see you in the morning".  
Little One smiled and pulled the blanket up to Her chin.  She told me goodnight and nestled in.

My how complex things become as they grow.  How much of it is them and how much is me, who knows.  But there are butterflies in all our stomachs.  Tomorrow I will take Her to a new place, filled with strangers, knowing how much I'll miss Her all morning, having gotten so used to Her constant presence.  Having loved it so much.  But because She is Her and I am, separately, Me, I will hug Her, in Her fancy dress and decked-out backpack, very tight.  Close my eyes as if I've jumped and am bracing.
And then let go.