I have blinked.
And she is now a ninth grade girl, young woman.
My daughter, Rebecca, has started her first year of High School this week.
This year is already different than other years. The school supply list includes things that middle school (and elementary) did not. One of those items being that very expensive calculator...isn't there one around here somewhere from one of her older brother's high school days? School clothes shopping had included under garments being of equal importance as the outer garments. Purses and wallets....let's not talk about the trip that I made to the Coach Store. And two flutes! OK, so High School shopping is much more expensive.
So, I took a picture of Rebecca when I picked her up from her first day. I proudly sent the photo out to family and friends who might be interested. One of the comments was priceless, from Wendy: "Oh my gosh, she's beautiful!!! What happened to that little girl who let me brush her wet hair after her bath and loved her hamster??? Wow, I guess she is about the same age I was when you started working with the youth?? How crazy is that? Tell her I said I love her hair like that."
My sentiments exactly...what did happen to that little girl who wanted her hair brushed after her bath and loved her hamster? And yes, she is the same age as Wendy was when I first met her. It is crazy.
One day she was smiling at me from a car seat, then she was thrilled with those big, fat Crayola crayons that preschoolers use. She wore pajamas with feet in them and played with Barbie Dolls in the bath tub. She spent time drawing cities between our driveway and our neighbors' with sidewalk chalk and riding her tricycle back and forth. She wanted me to put her hair in pony tails and bows, and her favorite song was ME singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. McDonald's was her favorite restaurant and Daddy was the cutest guy she ever saw.
Today we are talking about formal wear for Homecoming, how to make time for Youth Group activities, homework, and band. I limit the number of times she can color her hair per year to twice. She ordered Tofu at Pei Wei for dinner, her choice. Daddy is looking kind of old these days, especially compared the cute guy in her Spanish class. Footed pajamas have turned into cute gowns and the only driving she is talking about is when she gets to drive herself and how many of her friends have permits already.
I must have blinked.
She is growing up.
And she is now a ninth grade girl, young woman.
My daughter, Rebecca, has started her first year of High School this week.
This year is already different than other years. The school supply list includes things that middle school (and elementary) did not. One of those items being that very expensive calculator...isn't there one around here somewhere from one of her older brother's high school days? School clothes shopping had included under garments being of equal importance as the outer garments. Purses and wallets....let's not talk about the trip that I made to the Coach Store. And two flutes! OK, so High School shopping is much more expensive.
So, I took a picture of Rebecca when I picked her up from her first day. I proudly sent the photo out to family and friends who might be interested. One of the comments was priceless, from Wendy: "Oh my gosh, she's beautiful!!! What happened to that little girl who let me brush her wet hair after her bath and loved her hamster??? Wow, I guess she is about the same age I was when you started working with the youth?? How crazy is that? Tell her I said I love her hair like that."
My sentiments exactly...what did happen to that little girl who wanted her hair brushed after her bath and loved her hamster? And yes, she is the same age as Wendy was when I first met her. It is crazy.
One day she was smiling at me from a car seat, then she was thrilled with those big, fat Crayola crayons that preschoolers use. She wore pajamas with feet in them and played with Barbie Dolls in the bath tub. She spent time drawing cities between our driveway and our neighbors' with sidewalk chalk and riding her tricycle back and forth. She wanted me to put her hair in pony tails and bows, and her favorite song was ME singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. McDonald's was her favorite restaurant and Daddy was the cutest guy she ever saw.
Today we are talking about formal wear for Homecoming, how to make time for Youth Group activities, homework, and band. I limit the number of times she can color her hair per year to twice. She ordered Tofu at Pei Wei for dinner, her choice. Daddy is looking kind of old these days, especially compared the cute guy in her Spanish class. Footed pajamas have turned into cute gowns and the only driving she is talking about is when she gets to drive herself and how many of her friends have permits already.
I must have blinked.
She is growing up.
Rebecca and good friend, Lauren
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