I feel like writing today – it’s something that hasn’t come to me a lot lately, hence the lack of posts. Or if it has, I’ve channeled that into writing for work or uni. Today I’m going to indulge in some purely selfish writing, writing about my girls.
Yesterday we had a family get together for my Mum’s birthday. I was helping Miss 6 get ready – yes, she’s six now! It was a struggle, there was literally nothing in her cupboard that fit. I’m so used to her wearing school uniforms everyday that I hadn’t thought to update her wardrobe in a long time. Her top rode a good few centimeters higher than it should have and the sleeves were a long way from her wrists. I looked at this girl, all arms and legs, and wondered how on earth this seems to happen so quickly and yet so slyly. Where did all this length and height come from?
And it’s not just the physical changes that have been stampeding forwards, she has become quite the school girl. There are words and information and skills spilling out of every pore. She has so much she wants to say it is virtually unstoppable! She is kind, considerate and compassionate. Over the school holidays I’ve let her sit up and watch The Voice some nights. She thinks everyone is wonderful and should be chosen. She gets upset if none of the judges turn around. And she worries about whether the judges are going to have good teams. The feelings were genuine and quite intense.
The flip side of this compassionate little being is one that is a stress-head. She worries quietly to herself and you really have to work at her to get it out. The little signs start to appear, a reluctance to do something or go somewhere she would normally be jumping at, a lull in the constant chatter, and subtle withdrawing from her usual active days. Little comments that might seem inconsequential to others, she takes to heart. She worries about not being able to do something straight away. She does not cope well with pressure or being rushed. She likes to know exactly what is going to happen.
This beautiful being is blossoming in front of me everyday and it stops me in my tracks when I notice it. I find myself sneakily watching her, seeing the changing expressions on her face, a look of concentration or determination. She laughs with abandon and with her whole body (she thinks football commentators are particularly funny, I would have to agree). She loves her sister to the point of smothering her (Miss Four is not that into physical contact and hates kisses!). Books are still her thing, now reading them to me as much as me reading them to her. You know you’ve got a glass half full kind of kid when they think schools readers are great! To sit and watch this transformation take place is so incredibly life-affirming. I don’t miss the baby stage, or the toddler stage, I have no desire to go back, but I do hope this next stage slows down just a little so I can see more of the beauty and wonder. Forward, but not too fast.