At ten years old (almost eleven, she would remind me), she wants to dip-dye the tips of her hair. She wants to wear make-up, and not just at home playing around. She wants a phone. And a FB page, and SnapChat, and a YouTube channel. She wants to wear high heels and get her nails done. She wants to be grown-up.
But just the other night, tired and worn-out after a long day of swimming and playing, she asked me to sing her a lullaby. I sat by her bed, held her hand, and sang the songs she used to request nightly when she was little. She still crawls in my lap, all long, skinny arms and legs, and curls up like the baby she used to be. She still holds my hand when we’re walking.
Some days she’s my little baby girl, and I love those days. Other days, she’s this amazing, fun, witty, smart, sassy, preteen and I love those days too.
I don’t always know who she’s going to be from one minute to the next, and I don’t think she always knows either. This age isn’t easy, but she’s becoming this amazing person I love hanging out with. Letting go of the baby and embracing the girl she’s becoming is a work in progress for both of us, but we’ll get there together.