My not-so-little girl

So often as moms we hear "It goes so fast." or "Cherish these moments they'll be gone before you know it." or "I have three babies too. My little one just turned thirty." You seem to hear it from everywhere and everyone.

Usually, I politely agree, but all too often, I'm in the throes of my five-year-old having a breakdown, my five-month-old in a dirty diaper and food everywhere, and pleading with my seven-year-old to finish her homework. Truth be told, I'm envious of my peers who are still charging forward in their careers and sipping cocktails in swank bars or have the money to travel the world. I dream of the day when breakdowns over missing polly pocket princess shoes, or nightmares, or diapers are a thing of the past and my laundry pile fits into one basket. But more and more it seems I'm beginning to realize the old adages are starting to ring true and it not only makes me sad but makes me panicked. Have I done everything I'm supposed to teach her? Are we both ready for the looming pre-teen and teenage years ahead? Will she remember all the special baby and little girl moments we've shared?

Last night, we were eating dinner and Jenna asked for more milk. I was in the middle of listening to Tim tell me about his day and feeding Matthew his rice cereal and although I heard her, I didn't respond with any urgency. Without any prompt, Kaitlyn got up, went to the fridge, poured Jenna's milk and sat back down and finished eating her dinner. Doesn't seem very ground breaking but its one of those things that I don't know if I've ever thought about her doing. Usually, I pour the milk and do things like that to avoid the inevitable spills and messes. But the reality is, K is way beyond that point.

My little, timid Kaitlyn is almost eight-years-old. In a flash it seems, she is now a busy second grader. She dresses herself and does her own hair.  She can make herself lunch and I trust her to cut things with a knife. She reads chapter books and listens to "her music" on her i-pod. She made a "cootie catcher" last week and was amazed I knew how to make one too. She dances and plays soccer and can do a flip in gymnastics. She can diaper and feed her little brother or braid Jenna's hair. She has her friends and opinions and is often my "go to" in a pinch because she is one of the most reliable and responsible people I know. How did that happen?

I have a Masters in Communication. I have studied chronemics and gender differences, society influences, and inter/intra-personal communication strategies and methods, and many times I have read about how people "hear" but tend to not "listen". But here I am mystified at how I can watch and interact with a person daily and not often realize the person they have become or what they are capable of. Kaitlyn, truth be told, doesn't NEED me to survive anymore. 

Not only that, but she demands and deserves to be treated the age she is. Long gone are the days of Dora and wearing "little girl" hair bows. Nick Jr. and PBS shows are too simple for her and she likes to watch non-cartoon movies and shows with me instead. She asks thought-provoking questions, listens to the news and world around her. She challenges things she doesn't agree with and patiently works to teach her siblings games, rules, and how to do every-day tasks like tying their shoes. On our family vacations to Disney and Sea World last year, she eagerly waited in the long lines for the roller coaster and adult rides, and although she enjoyed herself immensely, it was obvious that the "magic" and awe and wonder that she found three years ago is not there anymore.

As with any turn of one's life, I look back with equal amounts of fondness and regret. I wish I could take back all the times I was impatient or yelled or wished she would "grow up." She did grow up and never again will I have that dimply, clumsy toddler dumping the goldfish crackers on the ground or learning to crawl/walk/potty/eat/etc. I now find myself grasping to keep her innocence and wonder in a world that is scary and often cruel. I want her to hold on to her love of fairies, and belief in Santa, and dressing in ruffly dresses. But I think the best thing to do as a parent (I hope I'm doing it right) is to cherish each day. Take a moment every night or morning and hold them and be quiet. Say a prayer, take a breath, close your eyes and smell their smell and look at the size of their fingers or nose or ears. Physically remind yourself to do it because life gets hectic, and hey, bed time and a glass of wine and a quiet house are precious things too. But never again will you get "today" back with them, and as everyone warned me, time goes way too fast.