Four and a half years ago when they came to live with us, #4 looked like this:
Little, messy, cute. You can also see her in my header picture above: I’m in the Mustang with #3, #4 and #5. She’s wearing the same shirt and I’m not entirely convinced the pictures were taken the same day. I think she wore that shirt all week.
This week I turned around and saw this (and, of course, snapped a picture):
Kids grow up. I get it. I’ve seen it happen and every parent seems shocked when it happens to their kids. But here’s the thing: I’ve watched her four siblings change too, and that didn’t surprise me.
#5 is exactly like his Dad. They both value making people laugh, bacon, and boobies. Every change in #5 brings him closer to that.
From the very beginning I could see the spark of who the three oldest girls were becoming. The opposite of an afterimage. I merely stood by and witnessed. Cool, yes, definitely. An honor.
But not exactly surprising. More like watching an image coming into focus, like on a Polaroid. You know it’s coming and it’s fun to watch the edges sharpen, the color blossom, the picture become clear.
Maybe it had to do with their ages when they came to us. Maybe it’s more about this one being the most ethereal. The one most likely to be taken by elves.
But this one, this #4.
I didn’t see it coming. Caught me totally off guard.
She had a choir concert this week, that’s the reason for the dress. I was putting her to bed that night and I told her how pretty and grown up she looked. She said, “I know, it’s crazy, right?” She then proceeded to tell me not to worry, that I would only see her dressed that way for 5th grade promotion (in a couple weeks), 8th grade promotion, her prom, and high school graduation.
I’m glad she stopped there. That was all a bit much for me. She doesn’t even wear a bra yet.
Oh, thank god. She’s still in there.