Friday, October 3, 2014

I Hate Time

So this happened yesterday:

Do you know why this happened? Because time is a jerk. My baby, who used to be little and small and not a giant 8 year old, is halfway grown up. Because time hates me. You know what time? I hate you right back. I hate you more. You make me sick. Your face disgusts me. Let's never talk again. 
This girl used to be little. Now she's tall and she reads chapter books and she has too many opinions. She cuts up her own pancakes like she's a freaking adult. She can shower by herself and wash her own hair. She can tie her own shoes. She can find what she wants to watch on TV or put on a DVD without adult assistance. Its like she doesn't even need a mommy anymore. 

This girl climbs to the top of stuff and can swing without being pushed. She can get her own bowl of cereal and then read the box while she eats it. 

This girl has hair down to her waist and mosquito bites all over her legs. She has crazy patterned nail polish and an undying love of lipgloss. This girl is very contradictory when it comes to fashion. She wears dresses and Nikes, or t-shirts and the girliest jewelry she can find. She has an Avengers lunchbox, and even though mean boys teased her about it (who I will find and punch in time) she stands firm that girls can like the Avengers too. 
This girl is in no hurry to grow up, even though time put her in second grade already. Dang you time. This girl has no plans to stop playing with toys, even when she is taking a shower by herself and washing her own hair like she's all grown up. She still intends on playing with Barbies and coloring every day of her life, try and stop her. She takes ridiculous videos of herself on my phone, she sings louder than the car radio, and she giggles nonstop at the dumbest TV shows. 

This girl is a sweet to everyone and gives unlimited hugs without even being asked. The only person she ever disagrees with is her sister, but they quickly make-up and go right back to playing/fighting again. This girl does not have a mean bone in her body, and she is the kind of friend and sister and daughter that reflects that. 

If only time would stop making her grow up so fast, I would have more time to just watch her. Watch her be an honor roll student, great big sister, Barbie and Frozen lover, lipgloss fanatic, wearer of chipped nail polish, expert hugger, and frequent giggler. Time keeps making her grow up, but I'm going to keep buying her Barbies and hair bows and markers and pretending that she will never grow up, because I don't want to face a world where she isn't my baby anymore. That's why no matter what I will never insist she just hurry up and act her age, because that age is always too high of a number for my comfort. 

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