You see, the oldest is growing up. It happened in the middle of laughter, tears, stress, and peace. It happened while I combed her hair; it happened when she learned to comb her own hair. It happened when she took her first steps, said her first word, and lost her first tooth. It happened when she read her first book and wrote her first story. It happened, and it is still happening.
As part of the remodel, we promised her her own room. A place for her to be her pre-teen self. And then it really happened.
She chose colors and lamps. She asked for decorations and fabric. She requested a chair for her birthday. We tucked her in the first night. Then we came downstairs and emotion overtook us. Dear Husband and I cried together. We didn't know it would feel like this.
When did our baby become a young lady? When did she trade in tiaras and toys for soap making and writing? Don't get me wrong, she still indulges in the daily imaginative adventure, but it is different.
I walk alongside her while we grocery shop; just the two of us, and I realize that I am looking directly into her eyes. I no longer look down and gaze upon the top of her head. I look into her eyes. Big eyes, like her Daddy's.
We talk about when she was two. Her massive fit that one time at the store. She laughs and says, "I sure am glad I don't do that anymore." I agree, but I miss it too. I miss the little giggles. I miss the dancing princess in her red tutu. But I look forward to so much more. I look forward to our late night conversation. I look forward to asking her opinion. I look forward to sharing shoes. I look forward to more date hikes and late nights making soap together.
And so it is happening. She is growing up.
2 comments:
I feel what you feel so keenly Charity. This is a beautiful tribute to your beautiful daughter.
oh Charity! sniff, sniff.
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