Well, my dear daughter, you are in second grade. No more snack time. Longer waits until lunchtime. Not old enough to walk to school on your own, but too old to let you ride in the double stroller, even if your legs DO feel like they're going to fall off. More math. Full sentences expected. Most of your peers know where babies come from, and this year, somebody will tell you about Santa Claus.
You are probably the last one in your class with all your baby teeth. I'm sorry for that. Actually, I'm not. That's your dad's fault.
When you went with your aunt to pick out new school clothes, I held my tongue, and just helped you find the right sizes. Girls your age are going to start noticing the clothes other girls are wearing. Girls your age aren't going to be nice about it if they don't like glitter and purple as much as you do. Fortunately for you, girls your age LOVE glitter and purple.
For the next four years, boys will not know you exist. Caveat: Unless you know something about Transformers. I'm sorry we didn't spend enough time on that this summer.
Second grade was rough for me. I peed my pants in second grade. It's not like peeing in kindergarten or first grade. The nurse looks at you funny, like she hates her job. And your teacher doesn't have another set of pants for you. I hope it doesn't happen to you, but if it does, I want you to know, I get it. I'll bring you pants, and I won't get mad at you. And I'm sorry. That one would be completely on me.
I'm really proud of you, and I'm glad I get to be your mom. You are sweet and kind, and, according to your homework Name Poem, you find yourself to be 'Lovely, Excellent, Nice, Nifty, Observant, and Nutty.' I wanted you to use Nordic, Notorious and/or Non-descript, but you're too Law-Abiding, Earnest, No-nonsense and Obstinate for that. It's cool, Nice worked too.