She turns 12 later this week. She's tall, getting curvy, and has long legs.She's discovered toenail polish and she and Irish Woman have delved into the world of tasteful application of make-up on special occasions.
She went shopping with her aunt on Sunday and came back not with toys, but with a new dress, matching pumps, and a new purse. The dress is very pretty and flattering to her without making her look like a street walker, but it's a long way from the little bubble dresses we used to dress her in so she could go play with her brothers.
I'm doing everything I can to prepare her and myself for the day when the boys come sniffing around. I've tried to make her a confident, self-assured young woman that won't let anyone treat her poorly. I've kept the lines of communication between us open, and encouraged her to talk to Irish Woman about stuff that she doesn't want to discuss with her dad.
However, when she put on that dress to show us on Sunday evening, I knew my little toddler image was definitely no longer accurate. Now, I know I need lots and lots of guns. I need to get back in shape so that no boy will entertain thoughts of hurting her due to his sense of self preservation.
And I need to learn how to let her grow up without pushing her out of the nest too quickly and without smothering her. Push too hard and she'll be dumped into the deep end in a pool full of sharks. Hold on too long and I'll either driver her away or make her hesitant when she has to be independent.
Of course, I can see myself doing something like this:
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