These Are The Days

Smart ~ Writer ~ Mom

52 Weeks of Sisterhood: The Push and Pull of Growing

20141006_165141Three little flowerpots occupy a tiny corner of our patio.

A little over a month ago, the girls planted the dirt and the seeds that came with the little kit and they’ve been keeping vigilant watch over the recent sprouting.

The other day, they filled our pink watering can (did you really think it would be any other color?) and gave the plants a drink of water. And by a drink, I mean the plants are currently swimming. Drowning, perhaps.

My little one is overjoyed and all-around dumbstruck that a plant is growing out of the pile of dirt.

My older one knew they would sprout, of course, but she was anxious to see the first bud.

Definitely a product of the instant gratification generation.

I smiled as I watched them spend the next ten minutes trying to will the plants to grow, grow, grow.

 

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My older girl is dealing with some things at school. Mean girls. Peer pressure. Pressure to fit in and be cool. She had a little breakdown last night. Tears. Stress. I don’t always know the right thing to say as my girl navigates the rough waters of the preteen years. It’s hard to help her walk the line between being defined by a group of her peers and not sacrificing who she is or what she wants to be (or do) in the process.

Fifth grade is hard. Growing up is hard.

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20140925_082138We have two long pieces of wood hanging in the doorway between our kitchen and our dining room.

One for each girl.

The sticks serve as their growth charts and, due to our nomadic lifestyle over the last decade, they are designed to be portable. The pink one on the left belongs to little sister and the white one is big sister’s. At least once a day, my little one says, “Measure me, please mom?” She’s so eager to move the notch on her growth!

But me? Not so much. I mean don’t get me wrong, I love watching them grow. And I know that my and my husband’s primary role is to ensure they grow up to be healthy, happy adults. But I don’t want to rush things, you know?

My little one is 99.999% potty trained (pull-ups at night, God help me) and she sleeps in a big-girl bed thanks to a transitioned toddler bed. At the playground, she can swing all by herself and only calls on me to push her when she’s feeling lazy, not because she can’t get enough momentum on her own.

My older girl is looking more and more like a pre-teen every day. Remember the episode of the Brady Bunch where Marcia started high school and she joined every club? Yes, well. My girl is doing probably too many lots of things at school – viola, chorus, cheer squad, math team, Girl Scouts, etc. I admire her enthusiasm, but I don’t want her to become a ten-year old burnout, either. So we’re talking about balance and commitment and responsibility and priorities. Big girl stuff. Growing up stuff.

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They’re both so eager to grow taller, be bigger, do more. And I suppose when I was their age I wanted to be older, bigger, and more grown-up too. But I’m sure as heck not going to stand over them and will them to grow, grow, grow. Like their little waterlogged plants, they’ll do it in their own sweet time. I’m just along for the ride.

4 Comments

  1. I love everything about this post, especially how it comes full-circle in the last paragraph (and btw, can I have a do-over and have you be my mom? 😉 I think you’ve got the mom thing down pat, for sure.

  2. They are so dear, and I love all the little things you notice and appreciate. Fifth grade was hard for me too!

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