I’ve never been able to imagine Olivia as a teenager. I don’t know if it was self-preservation or what. But when the calendar turned to 2012 and I realized that my baby girl will be turning 11 this year, I panicked a little. My baby girl can’t turn 11. That is very close to 13. Very close to junior high. Very close to a teenager.
I can’t possibly be the mother of a pre-teen, can I?
It’s a very weird existence when you’re simultaneously changing a diaper and getting your child dressed while wondering if it’s time for a training bra. It kinds of blows your mind. The thought of my little girl developing makes me want to hurl. My biggest fear in that area is that she ends up with a nice rack and maintains her skinny little body. No way this mama wants the boys looking at my girl. And you all know she’s gorgeous. And sweet. And funny. And kind. And friendly. Add a hot body on top of that and I get freaked out. Wouldn’t you? I just can’t believe it’s 2012. I really can’t.
It feels like yesterday that I was waiting with baited breath to hear a word, any word, come out of her mouth. Waiting for her to crawl. To sit up. To walk. And now I’m waiting (and not in a good way) for periods and training bras and hormones? WTF? I just can’t believe it.
I see her walking up the driveway after getting off the bus with her cute outfit, her hair done just so and her glasses saying “Hi Mama!! How was your day?” and I just stare. When did my baby becoming this beautiful, mature, pre-teen girl?
Lord help me.