WTF. I don’t know why I feel like there’s such a huge leap between 6 and 7, but 6 is still a little girl. Seven isn’t. I jokingly chastised her this morning that I had told her, in no uncertain terms, was she to continue growing up (I’ve been joking about this for years) and her quick response was, “I don’t ever listen to you anyway.” Oh there’s a glimpse into the future if ever there was one.
She was a poodle last night for Halloween. She couldn’t have looked any cuter. The “cute” costume days are numbered now, if not already gone. She uttered yesterday afternoon that she thought she might look silly as a poodle. And so it starts already – worrying about what other people think, worrying about what strangers will think of her and how she looks.
Seven. 7. SEVEN!
Such a small number but it feels like a loaded number. The official end of her “smallie” era and the beginning of ” regular kid” phase. Hold me.
My 6-year old hurricane has mentioned a boy in her class a few times. It’s always been in the context of how he was messing around in class and causing trouble. Last night, we were talking about the after-school clubs that her school has. Students can sign up for free to these activities (yoga, fit for fun, art, horticulture, music, reading, drama, poetry, science, lego, etc.) but since we were late to the school year, all the clubs were full. For some odd reason, I pulled up the club list last night and was asking her what she wanted to do next year. She calls out a bunch and when I get to one particular club, she says she wants to do that one because X is in it. I’m a little confused. He does sit at her team table in school (the students are grouped into teams of 4-5 in the classroom) and I’ve previously commented to my husband that of course she’s sitting with the troublemaker. She would be drawn to that excitement like a bee to honey.
I take the conversation last night in my stride. Nothing stands out since I know the students will be all mixed up next year. Then my husband drops the bombshell. Apparently, she told my husband while I was away that she kissed this boy. Whhhhhhhaaaaaat? Now when the f**k did this happen? And why didn’t I know about it immediately? Then he tells me that another time, he kissed her. I have no doubt that the kiss is probably equal to how she kisses our dog but still. STOP THIS!!!! I can’t say a word to her about it, because she’s exactly like me. I know if I make a big deal out of it, she’ll zone in on it faster than an interstellar comet. I’m already having a very hard time knowing that her next birthday means she’ll be 7. That just seems so . . . so . . . not a little girl. Six means she’s still little but for some reason, 7 isn’t that little at all. Now this!
I know I’m overreacting. This just threw me a curveball because she’s never,ever, ever been interested in boys before. I’m praying that’s still the case and that I’m just reading too much into it.
Yeah, that’s it. I’m just reading too much into it. Denial works well for me.