Sometimes I torture myself and look back at old photos of my girls. Today, I stumbled upon these from just last year. Just last March, and yet big sister looks so young.

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Big sister loves her dolls. Always has. But now that Middle School is upon us, she says they’re too “babyish.”

Ignore that sound. It’s just my heart crumbling into a gazillion pieces. Nothing to see here.

The irony is, she’s now at an age where she can actually appreciate her dolls. She carefully attends to their hair, their clothes, their accessories. She’s not careless. In fact, she’s sort of Type A about the whole thing. She’s organized the doll corner in our basement so precisely that if little sister even breathes in that space she freaks.

And speaking of little sister, she loves her dolls too. But right now she’s more focused on undressing them and carrying them around naked. By the hair, of course.

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I want them to grow up.

Really, I do.

Just not right now.

Or tomorrow.

Or ever.