My oldest has been taking baby steps into adulthood since the moment she was seventeen months old and decided to rise up and walk. These days, it feels like I am earning more stretch marks as I watch her mature and change into something I have never had before - an almost teenage adolescent.
Change is exciting. I don't happen to do exciting very well - just ask Roxy, because she says we have the most boring house EVER. And Darby is pretty much facing it all, head-on, ready to go. This is a slight shift for her, because there have been numerous occasions where she has dug in her heels and refused to acknowledge any change or growth required of her.
But her changes now are of great interest to her. New, mature clothes. Huge-but-beautiful feet. Skin care. Hair care. Text messages that she wants to keep private. Deep thoughts about deep subjects. Activities that take her away from this home and away from her unqualified mother. I am definitely feeling more stretch marks, every day. Who knew that I was the one doing all the stretching? Who knew that I was the one that needed to adapt?
And now, my baby is wanting to redefine herself. And these are more like giant leaps to me. She is now a reader. Now she wants to dance in a studio where she will wear tarted-up spandex. Now, she wants to join a club for the gifted kids that try to solve hypothetical problems in competition venues. This kid? The one who still acts like a wiener dog?
This momma cannot take on those stretch marks right now. No way, no how. I am just trying to survive the big kid, who will soon share my shoe size, if she is that unfortunate...
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