When you wish upon a star

I had a date tonight. Not your conventional date - but a date with my four year old - my Emme Bear. Her best friend, Lauren, has a birthday next week and in much anticipation for the party, Emme has asked since last week to go get Lauren a present. We had settled on going out Monday night for a present, but a bout with some unanticipated intestinal distress (for me!), I cancelled the trip to WalMart. Instead, we decided that waiting until Wednesday would be good - and maybe even then we could go to dinner - without the boys ... Emme's idea, of course. She even cleared it with her Dad, asking him if he could "handle the boys" while we went out. In my distressed state, I agreed to dinner and shopping. I figured Emme typically forgets - so this was probably something that she would let pass.

But she didn't. For a day and a half, all she could talk about was her night out. When we picked her up at daycare this afternoon, all the teachers know this was her special night out with Mom. But, because as a Mom you tend to worry about everything, I did worry that tonight was less about spending time with me and more about getting to do something that her brothers didn't get to do. My worries were calmed, however, when we got home and as I got dinner ready for the boys, Emme went upstairs to change. Using her own fashion sense, she came downstairs dressed like me. We left the house both wearing our scarves and with big attitudes. This was our night out.

And as we drove to dinner, we listened to my Favorites13 Mix CD. As she rocked out to Bon Jovi's (I'm such a child of the 80s!) "It's Okay to Be Broken", I asked her what she thought the song meant. At first, she didn't know. But, I kept prompting her until she finally decided that the song told her that it is okay to be who you are - even if you are different. That people can be sad, happy, or mad and it was all okay. I was proud of my Emme to understand that and to know that songs have a meaning beyond the words.

From that discussion, as we sat eating pizza and black bean burgers at Chili's, Emme starts talking about E.T. - an audio book she has been listening to that her friend Emma gave her. She decided that it would make a good movie and that when it came out maybe she and I could go see it together. Just us - without the boys. "You know - like friends go to movies." My heart danced. She saw me not only as her Mom but as her friend. (And, admittedly, my mind raced thinking that she might have the same insight as Steven Spielburg...). I told her that it already was a movie and Yiayia and Pappou owned it. But, that we would have to wait to see it because it might be hard for her to understand. And in the way Emme only could, she looks at me and says "oh, I didn't realize some of it would be in Spanish ..." The tears rolled down my face as I laughed. A good laugh. A much needed laugh. The kind of laugh you share with a good friend.

As we continued our evening looking through Toys R Us and then WalMart until we found the perfect gift ... the very last Jasmine Princess Barbie on the shelf ... Emme asked me if I remembered the Saturn star we had seen through Daddy's telescope. I said "yes." And she says, "well, I think that maybe that is where shooting stars come from" - I told "maybe, Em - could be". And she says, "well, if I ever saw one, I'd wish that my friends would stay close forever ... even past kindergarten"

And with that wish, I understood that whether you were four or four plus thirty-four, we all have the same wish. That as life changes, our friends would always stay close. And as I now sit in my Emme Bear's room listening to her breaths slow in pace as she falls into a deeper sleep, I realize that not every night will be like tonight - that someday my four year old will, at fourteen, probably hate me - but, I have 10 years for her to see a shooting star. And if she is lucky enough - the moment will be magical for her and her wish will transcend what we know about the reality of life changes and her friends will stay close.

I know at least one that will - even past kindergarten.