Yesterday at 1:36 pm my "biggest baby" turned eleven years old. Eleven. (Didn't we just bring that hairy, pudgy, red-faced baby home from the hospital yesterday?) Something about that number sends me into frantic urges to run out and purchase all books pertaining to puberty and teenage girl related topics. Perhaps I'm jumping the gun a bit early, but I'm pretty sure the next time I blink, it will happen. It still seems so bizarre for us to be entering that stage. Some would label that "denial", but in fact the opposite is true. I tend to over-prepare at times. I like to know what's coming and how I'll respond. Quite amusing, I think....considering the fact that no one is fully prepared for what life chooses to bring them. Especially when it comes to raising teenage girls. (Holy heavens. I'll have three. Shall I stock up on feminine products now?) A girl can hope, right?
(Dramatic pause...purely for my own sanity while I ponder what the future may hold...)
Earlier this week we began birthday celebrations for my girl. We took a trip to the big city, did some big city shopping (why do they get all the awesome stores?), stayed overnight in a hotel (to which three little girls were very distraught to learn the pool was broken), and played at Chuck E. Cheese (best man-made invention ever). Kaytlin thoroughly enjoyed the birthday trip, and despite a complete lack of sleep and getting lost in the mall we had fun as well.
Ahhh....to be eleven again.
No comments:
Post a Comment