Some days she’s a tiny hurricane.
She storms through the house in a whirlwind of big feelings, friendship dramas, strong opinions, slammed doors, tears, laughter, and endless questions. She feels everything deeply and loves fiercely. She can turn an ordinary Tuesday into a full-scale emotional event before breakfast.
And if I’m honest, sometimes I worry.
I worry about the friendships that seem so important right now. I worry about the move. I worry about whether she’s happy, whether she’s coping, whether I’m getting any of this parenting thing right.
Then a school report arrives.
In the middle of all the chaos that comes with being ten years old, her teacher describes her as hardworking, reliable, motivated, and perhaps most importantly, “a joy to teach.”
Those words stopped me in my tracks.
Because while I see the storms, her teacher sees the child who turns up every day determined to learn. The child who volunteers, leads, participates, tries again when things are difficult, and approaches the world with curiosity.
Reading the report reminded me that children are never just one thing.
The girl who falls out with friends is also the girl who is trusted as a playground leader.
The girl who sometimes struggles with big emotions is also the girl who is reliable and conscientious.
The girl who occasionally drives me completely around the bend is also the girl whose love of learning makes her a joy to teach.
I couldn’t be prouder.
Not because she’s exceeding expectations in reading fluency or number facts, although that’s wonderful. Not because she’s working securely within the expected standards.
I’m proud because she keeps showing up as herself.
Wild-hearted. Curious. Kind. Determined.
The world often tells little girls to make themselves smaller, quieter, easier to manage. I hope she never loses that spark that makes her who she is.
So here’s to the end of Year 5.
To growth that happens quietly when nobody is looking.
To the teachers who see our children clearly.
To the little girl who still believes in magic, still dreams big, and still fills every room she enters with a little more life.
Stay wild, Goblin child.
And always insist on your cup of stars. ❤️✨🌙
