The time is now.
My 3 1/2 year old grandson started school, and is thrilled with his Paw Patrol backpack. He leaves with his dad who works at the same school. Adelyn sits with Nana, on the step, watching their departure, with her body in the same position as mine, her hands on her knees like mine, with the calm wave goodbye, like mine. The most minute details of not only what I do, but with what energy I do it is transmitted moment to moment.
Yesterday she then struggled with buckles of my backpack, wove her little body through straps to put it on incorrectly. What she wanted was clear so I emptied the pack and she patiently put arms through, and then did up the waist buckle with great concentration. Her walk to the door was deliberate. Her "Nana," said "Okay, it is my turn to go to school like my brother. Let's go." Oh, how this seventeen month old takes in the world.
After some thought, I pulled out a book-- when she was able to let go of this future fantasy. As an author, as a Nana--I instill a love of books in her -- now, before she has more than four words, before she goes to school, before many people believe the details are oh so important. The time is now.