Last Thursday, Layla walked into elementary school with Big Sis as a kindergarten student and experienced a new first: Meet The Teacher Night.

Her familiarity with the campus didn’t temper the awe in Layla’s expression as she waved at staff members on the way to Homeroom. Wide eyes took in future classmates, vivid posters and a set of computers along the wall. As she sat down next to her name tag and watched her future teacher and classmates, Daddy gave her a hug. “Finally stating school on Monday Layla-Bug, how does it feel?”

Our resident princess isn’t the only one grappling with that question. It’s a heady and humbling process to watch your once-helpless and dependent babies grow into walking and talking little people. She’ll always be our youngest child, but Layla’s transition from Baby Girl to Big Girl is now underway and the family is learning to adjust to that truth, especially Mom and Dad.

“I look at Layla and still see her lying in the bassinet in the hospital nursery,” Calvin told me earlier as we sorted outfits and school supplies. “She’s so fiesty now, just like her momma and her Aunt Demetree. I can see her being little like you, but she’s not gonna take too much off of folks. Those kids at school better get ready!”

Little and fiesty, that’s our Layla-Bug to a tee. If Nia is Calvin Jr., Baby Girl is Lorrie the Second. Her uncanny resemblance to my baby pictures notwithstanding, Layla’s love of reading and dancing also remind people of her mommy. Her sweetness, affectionate nature and mischievousness aside, if Big Brother or Sister raise their voices too loudly or take something she thinks is hers, Layla doesn’t immediately burst into tears—she fights back.

Being the youngest member of a sisterly duo has advantages and disadvantages. She’s the most tom-boyish, cool with getting dirty if it gets the job done yet ready to bat those doeish brown eyes if it gets her siblings to clean up the mess. Layla’s the most fearless of the two girls when it comes to animals and trying to master her bike’s training wheels, but she’s also quick to escape nightmares by fleeing her bedroom for ours.

Self-reliant one moment and clinging to us in the next, it’s a conflict that Layla is still struggling with and will, fortunately, have years to balance. But for now, Layla listens intently as Nia fills her in on school routines: using the library, music class, gym and the good stuff to eat when she goes through the cafeteria line. She beams with pride as Big Bro asks for a rundown of how her school day went and most of all, Layla takes comfort in knowing that she’s a smart, capable and beloved girl with siblings, grandparents, cousins and dozens of extended family members rooting for her to succeed.

The last few days have been a flurry of paperwork, permission slips and the beginnings of crayon-filled classwork. Layla is perfecting her letters and Nia is helping her with cut, paste and trace. When I picked up the girls the other day, Layla and her big sister were playing patty-cake with a new friend. “Mom, some little boy in Miss Taylor’s class put his scissors by my hair,” Layla told me as they buckled up in the backseat.

“Is that right? What did you do?”

“I yelled ‘STOP IT!’ and Miss Taylor put him in time-out,” she said matter-of-factly. “Because that wasn’t nice.”

“Good job, make sure you stand up for yourself,” I replied, proud that our Resident Princess already has most of life’s important lessons down pat.