She’s seven but that rarely seems her age.
Last week she had a hair cut in a new style and suddenly she’s going on ten. The pants are shrinking and her opinions are growing.
Yet she melts down over Mother’s Day breakfast. Bagels are just too messy, you know and only toast will do. She stomps off, reflections of a pre-schooler in her stride.
Today she put on a skirt and she is all legs. She eagerly rushes to the school yard, links arms with friends and I am forgotten. When I pick her up, she will be small again – tired from the day, silly and slipping her hand into mine.
I marvel at my seven year old as we work on riding a bike. One moment she is all eagerness, determined to do it all on her own. “Faster, faster! But don’t let go mom!” Then we must stop. The bike “Jewel” is thirsty and needs a drink of clouds.
Every day is an adventure with this growing daughter. I see many reflections of myself yet she is all her own person. It is bitter-sweet to see her grow. I savour the moments, knowing how quickly they disperse. Even when she’s grown, she will always be my baby girl.