From Pigtails to Ponytails

My little girl just turned 9 years old. She is my only child. My pride and joy. She is liking the 26 pigtails with matching barrettes for each outfit alot less these days. The graduation from pigtails to ponytails is just as significant in a little girls life as your first menstrual cycle. It’s a rite of passage. It means that your leaving a lot of those “little girl” things behind. Playing with dolls a little less and testing the limits on the telephone. Looking at my daughter I see how she is changing already. Her face is slimming even more. Her gorgeous features are morphing her into an even more exotic beauty. My “baby” is less of a baby without me being able to get a hold of my feelings on the subject.

I think it’s hard for me because I vaguely remember who I was at that age. So uncertain, looking for confidence under a rock if I had to do. My child on the other hand is a little more free with her statements, a lot less calculated. She’s basically more comfortable in her skin. Ms. Thing is still sweet and young but thoughtful. She is not afraid to show interest in her friends and wanting sleepovers. Does it help that she got a cell phone for Christmas at 8 years old? She doesn’t really use it but by 11 I’m sure I will have to set guidelines. It’s all happening so fast. I want to slow time down. I want to go back to that Monday afternoon when I held her for the first time. She opened her eyes for the first time and looked up at me. Instant connections were made between she and I; we became linked for life.

By the time I was 13 years old I was certain that my father was a complete and absolute idiot. He knew nothing. Every word he uttered was jibberish and he needed to check himself into a mental hospital fast! My constant state of “lockdown” in my sheltered young teenage existence might have had a part in my perception of the man who was raising me. So that is why I know days of “not exactly adoration” are coming for me and my little legacy. Its nature. I can’t fight it. But its’ not my job to worry about the future so much. I’m sure the best thing for me to do is enjoy that she loves me like crazy right now.

I’ll end this post by sharing a poem my “mini me” wrote just a few days ago…

To My Beautiful Mom:

You are the key to my world and the light of me.
I love you forever and more.
The end.

*wipes tears*