Three hours after school was over for summer vacay, The Bell had already written her fourth grade teacher a letter AND mailed it. Even though they’d been separated for something just shy of a couple hundred minutes, my little nerd wanted Mrs. P to know exactly how much she was projected to be missed throughout the course of the next few months.

The next week The Bell wrote her teacher while sitting on a beach in Florida. That’s dedication beyond my grasp of comprehension. 

Bella, Mommy, Mom, and Isy<3

 I figured the letter campaign deserved some sort of reward-slash-stimulus package, so I spent some time at Half-Price Books today carefully selecting the perfect notecards — Hello Kitty on the beach and a second set, which featured a puppy kissing a kitten. Very ten year-old-y. I actually cringed while paying, for fear the girl behind the counter would assume I was one of those weird, baby animal art lovers. Embarrassingly, I told her, “Oh, no, I won’t need a bag because I’m gonna just give these straight to my kid.” (As if that had any sort of bearing over the necessity for my purchase’s travel arrangements.)

At home, I grabbed a Post-It and began:

“Dear Bella…”

No, she hates that now. She wants to be called by her full name. Ok, then:

“Dear Isobel…”

Crap. She signs everything “Isy” with a heart. I should use that, too, I guess.

“Dear Isy<3,

I picked these cards up for you today. Thought you might dig them.

Love, 

Mommy”

Mommy. No. She’s not a baby. I should sign it “Mom.” Or maybe “Mom<3.”  No, that’ll get Ye Ole Eye Roll. 

It was an awful lot of thought for two sets of stationary, but I’m just not ready to be She Who is Despised, Loathed, Ignored, Disregarded, Stupid, and Unfashionable. I am gonna miss “Mommy.”

One last time, though. I am Mom after this yellow Post-It tag. 

And this week you’re “Isy<3.”