Eight years ago today I held a teeny tiny angel in my arms. Our first. She was perfect
Today she is tall and mature and cheeky and resilient and too much like me.
Unlike with her little sister, I've never had a problem with her getting older. We sent her to school at the age of four because apparently 'she was ready'. She is always after a challenge, she likes to know everything and analyse everything. She is as intense in personality as her eyes are blue. She is passionate and extroverted. She is polite, particular and 'perfect' (in public at least). Her love language is quality AND quantity time. She craves, needs. wants it all. A whole day playing games with her would fill her cup nicely, until tomorrow.
She loves animals and her grandparents. She can sing and she is clever. She loves to make things and to have pretty things.
She is eight today and wishes she was nine. I'd quite like her to slow down now, to keep her innocence for longer. She has already begun to pay too much attention to her hair or clothes in the morning. It must be about now that they become all too aware of themselves, their bodies, their face and how it feels to be 'in their skin'. It's scary.
Sometimes she turns into someone who is not my little angel. For 30 minutes or an hour she is uncontrollable, angry, bursting with the insufferable unfairness of life. She yells and cries and can't let it go, can't be reasoned with. Sometimes she knows she is being unreasonable but can't help herself and she is becoming aware of the pain it is to have one of these over anxious complicated female minds. She's not perfect, she is like the rest of us. She can no more be perfect than I can love her perfectly( although I try) We both need Someone other to love us and accept us perfectly.
She's just started talking to me about sex, telling me she knows what it is and sounding smug when she describes it to me as 'married people cuddling with no clothes on.' Blake and I may have to close our door from now on. *blush* She can stop now I think, stop at age eight. I tell both our girls that growing is a punishable act in this house and they'll be sent to their rooms if I catch them at it. Lucky for them they seem to grow while sleeping.
And they won't stop. Sigh. Next year they'll walk together to school and that thought makes me not want to think anymore today.....
Happy Birthday to our beautiful Malya Hope.