Life, the Big Improv

Today I sat in a room and watched a person I grew in my body do some improv. Like, out in front of me, show me skills I didn't teach her, just something she learned, by going to a class with her cousin. It is so strange to be a mom and to supposedly not be consistently stunned by your remarkable children. To act like they aren't tethered to you, because they want to be free, and you want them to grow. But what do you do with that tether that you still feel? Are there magic scissors for that? I would never use them. It was nice to watch Emma with a big smile on my face. It was nice to smile because she is so funny and so growing and doing so well, and learning stuff, and entertaining us. I can't believe how important everything is. I had no camera, of course, because I was having an argument with someone I'm married to on the way there, and the camera was not on the pile of stuff stacked by the door to take, the only way to remember anything. I did remember the 5 year old, even though she was not stacked by the door. She was laying on the floor, coughing and crying because she didn't want to go pee pee before getting in the car. Then the argument about being late. Then the awkward car ride where everyone's mad. Then the big smile. Because of Emma.