For This Post, The Role Of Laney Will Be Played By Kevin Costner.

Dear Laney,

I know, I know. Everyone's tired of hearing about the damn carousel.

We stopped by there last Friday afternoon and I deliberately didn't bring my camera along, because, seriously: How many pictures can you take of the same young'un on a revolving horse? (See what I did there? I staged an intervention against myself. And I believed me).

In April, I bought myself the $50 annual pass to ride the carousel, because I realized at $2.25 per adult ride, the thing was going to bankrupt me. On June 8th, I broke even.

Last Friday, after near-constant begging on your part, I let you ride the carousel all by yourself. I wasn't even on the dang thing - I was just waving from the sidelines. On one hand, it was hard to let go; you looked so grown-up, and you didn't need me at all. On the other hand, you were wearing Dora training pants, so it wasn't like I was watching you pack up and go to college. Yet.

The carousel goes around in a circle 22 times on the average 3:30 ride (if I knew the circumference of the thing, this could probably turn into one of those geeky math problems that gets your dad all hot and bothered). On each of those rotations, we spotted each other and waved and you yelled HI MOMMY!!! When the ride was over and I helped you off your horse, the first thing out of your mouth: "Did you see me?" As if I might have been accidentally waving to someone else all 22 times.

For the last ride of the day, you suggested, "You can ride with me, Mommy." I climbed on the innermost horse, you climbed on the middle horse, and a woman nervously clutching the pole while sharing a horse with her four year-old daughter claimed the outside horse. With a nod to you, she said, "I don't know how they hang on. I feel like I'm going to fall off any minute." I said, "I worried about that the first 600 times I rode this thing, too, but then I got over it." As soon as it left my mouth, I thought, "She probably thinks I'm being flippant. Or mean. She doesn't know that I'm really a responsible parent who's constantly vigilant about my children's safety."

I'm so vigilant, in fact, that it took me about a minute and a half to stop watching the scenery and instead to check on you on the horse next to me. That's when I discovered that you were riding the horse with your eyes closed, head back, arms outstretched. The only things keeping you on the horse were the safety belt and thigh friction.

I have since dubbed this maneuver "The Dances With Wolves."

Oh, how I wish I had brought my camera so I could have captured your feat of daring AND the look on the mom's face next to you.

I made you sit up and hold on, of course, and threatened to take away your annual pass. But as always, I was also more than a little bit proud to have a child who seems completely fearless. The world is your carousel, sweet girl. Lean back and enjoy it.

Love,
Mom