10 years ago, she began to be more still.
She had been all-gymnast in the womb from the first moment I felt that first butterfly-wing brush until these days. But with ten days until her due date, she was a bit more still, needing more space for the long legs and arms, that would soon bend at the elbow and stretch above her head each time before her eyes would open.
She has been that constant blur of motion ever since. She was a baby who needed motion, rocking in her car seat. Toddler-tall, spinning in circles around me...me the dizzy one. My outdoor girl, hair left behind while swinging to the clouds. My gymnast, cartwheeling and hand standing and somersaulting until exhausted.
And likewise, in a great blur of motion, she dives headlong into the last 18 days of her single-digits.
Ten is approaching more rapidly than I had thought possible.
And she, she who looks to me to see if I am ready, is ready.