Two years ago, I walked a tiny 3-year-old Kay into preschool for the very first time. I remember wondering how she would do, if she would be comfortable, if the other kids would understand her, and honestly… if I was ready for it myself.
Now here we are, celebrating her last day of pre-K, and I can hardly believe how much life has changed between then and now.
The little girl who once walked into this school shy and uncertain is now leaving as a confident, funny, determined 5-year-old who has grown in more ways than I could have imagined. And in just a few short months, she’ll be starting kindergarten at a brand new school.
I don’t think there are enough words to explain how proud I am of her. These last two years have been filled with so much growth — not just academically, but emotionally, socially, and medically too. Somewhere in the middle of all the normal preschool milestones, our world completely changed with Kay’s Type 1 Diabetes diagnosis. Suddenly our days became filled with finger pokes, carb counts, insulin doses, Dexcom alarms, doctor appointments, and learning how to keep our little girl safe while still letting her be little.
There were moments that felt overwhelming. Moments where I questioned how we would navigate all of this while also trying to give Kay a normal childhood. But through it all, she continued doing what Kay does best: adapting, learning, and proving just how resilient she is.
She learned how to wear devices attached to her tiny body every day. She learned that sometimes we pause to treat lows or dose for snacks before jumping back into playtime. She learned that diabetes is part of her life, but it does not define who she is.
And somehow, despite everything she has faced, she still walks through life with the sweetest smile, the funniest personality, and more joy than most adults I know.
This school has been part of so much of that journey. They didn’t just teach her letters, numbers, colors, and routines. They loved her. They celebrated her victories, supported her through challenges, and helped create an environment where she could thrive exactly as she is. As a parent, especially a parent of a child with additional medical needs and disabilities, that kind of support means everything.
When Kay started preschool at 3 years old, she was still being followed closely by multiple specialists. We were navigating therapies, appointments, hearing equipment, and learning how to advocate for her every step of the way. Watching her grow from that tiny little girl into the child she is today feels emotional in the best possible way.
She has worked so hard for every milestone she reaches.
And now somehow, we’re talking about kindergarten.
I know this next chapter will bring new routines, new teachers, new friendships, and probably a few tears from me too. But if these last two years have taught me anything, it’s that Kay is capable of so much more than the world may expect from her.
She continues to surprise me every single day.
Kindergarten better be ready for you, sweet girl.