Archive for August 17th, 2013

Sometimes, Rowan, you still look so small to me. I mean, you are literally very small¬† for your age so that helps, but you’ve grown up up up this year in so many ways. Looking back through these pictures of your year of seven broke my heart and filled it right back up again, over and over, all at once.

I get scared for you sometimes, daughter. Will you quit being independent and start following the crowd? Will you morph into a wall flower or a mean girl? Will you begin to be embarrassed of your family, our things, your super awesome mom? {No, that last one’s silly. And obviously completely, totally impossible.}¬† Will you quit letting me do your hair? I know I was much older when my mom quit brushing and braiding my hair but I was super lame when I was little so I’m perhaps not the best judge. Will you stop nestling your head in my lap after you ask me to read you a chapter of The Prisoner of Azkaban? Will you stop calling me mama in favor of the multi-syllabic MooooOOOOOooooM?

Thankfully, I think I have some time. When you have free time and retreat to your room, I will open the door to find you deeply immersed in creating kleenex fashions for your Barbies, or organizing your Polly Pocket accessories juuuust so. You still call a caterpillar a callapillar when you talk too fast. So maybe it’s more like I’m scared for me. I know we’re still firmly in childhood but I can’t shake the feeling that something is winding down. That soon, you’ll be onto me. Like this morning when I told you that you’d better enjoy your last day here with us because I will not, under any circumstances, allow a giant eight year old to live in this house. Before you would have gotten all ruffled, but this time you just smiled, rolled your eyes and said, “I’m not going anywhere, Mama”.

And you’re right, Rowan J. You called my bluff, you’re not going anywhere for now. But soon, you’re gonna go everywhere.













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