There has been a subtle shift in the Red Bean lately. As she’s grown further into her tenth year, I catch glimpses of the teenager she is growing into. The woman she will become.
Folding clothes in my room the other day I heard her asking her brother which necklace went best with each shirt she tried on. There were murmurs punctuated by the occasional laugh. She waltzed into my room for a final ruling, “Is the necklace too much?” It was but I didn’t have the heart to say. It wouldn’t have been fair. I’m a minimalist through and through. She is young, still experimenting with color and matching, still drawn to the bright! shiny! Instead I smiled, told her she looked lovely as always, that if wearing the necklace made her happy, she should do so. She walked back into her room and I overheard her telling her brother, “Who knew being beautiful was so much work?”
I laid down in that pile of laundry and closed my eyes. I can still clearly see the little girl I was handed, the dark head of hair, her perfect rosebud lips. She was a porcelain doll come to life. And now she’s grown. Not quite grown. Still growing. I can’t seem to reconcile the small babe she was with this gossamer creature she has become. I’ve been a watchful mama and yet, I cannot tell you when it happened. When it began. I can’t even begin to count the myriad ways my life has changed since a pregnancy test showed two little pink lines. And the ways she’ll change my life with all her growing and coming into her own? Unfathomable. I love growing with this girl of mine.