Thirteen

My darling daughter has turned 13. My little one. My baby girl. Its hard to imagine where the time has gone. And it will continue to fly by. She's been taller than me for awhile. Her shoe size passed mine in 6th grade. And she met me eye to eye by the beginning of 7th. Somewhere in the last 8 mos she's gotten an inch or so on me. But she still weighs 15 pounds less than me!

Its feels odd now to hug her, or have her throw HER arm around MY shoulders. I want to be the protector, the lioness, mama bear. But she's quickly outgrowing the need for my protection and guidance. It makes a big part of me sad, while the rest of me beams with pride at the young lady she's becoming.

Twelve was a tough year. She faced difficult choices with friendships, boys, and activities. Sometimes she made bad choices. Often she rebelled, just for the sake of rebelling, and pulling on that fabric that binds us together. Often she made good choices though. And, most importantly, she does learn from her bad choices. She kept her grades up and did a great job in cheer, which required a lot of dedication and hard work.

We're in a really good place right now. She is open about her love and admiration for me, as I am for her. Trust me, we have our moments. But I'm hopeful that 13 will be easier than 12. Perhaps I'm just kidding myself. But one can hope. Mostly I just feel blessed by her presence in my life, and I often marvel that such a bright, funny, socially gifted child came from my own body. And I will enjoy the time I have left with her greatly before she spreads her wings and takes flight.