Vicbowin Grows Up

Monday at the library my darling girl picked up some 'growing into your self' sorts of books.

She grabbed one about eye shadow application (can I just say... I have learned so much in the last two days!) and one about personal beauty.

I guess I've always been of the mind that at some point in a girls life she discovers self-preparation. She discovers that her hair looks better brushed and her appearance looks better when she thinks about what she's wearing.

Vicbowin has been working up to this for awhile now. She's been experimenting with makeup, she's been trying daring new clothing combo's, and she's been asking lots of questions.

So then she grabs these books, almost like another rung in the growing up ladder, and the past few days have been mommy bliss for me.

"Mom, do we have any sunblock? I'm outside the most between 11AM and 2PM everday and you know that's when the suns rays are the strongest."

"Mom, I should be washing my face everyday you know."

I have struck the jack pot and yesterday was the mother-load.

We'd been playing around with the different makeup tips (on her, but I was silently taking notes) when we remembered that she had somewhere to go.

Scrambling around ensued and when my baby came out of her room my heart nearly stopped beating. When, oh when, did she have time to grow so!? Surely I hadn't missed that much of her life. But standing before me was a prime example of the beauty to come. She was an 'almost.' A girl on the brink of her pre-teens and teens. A member of that rare species of betweens that aren't quite grown but are definitely lacking baby fat.

She had her hair up on the tip-top of her head, haphazardly pulled halfway through a ponytail band and her bangs were bobby pinned to the side.

She had taken a floor length skirt and hitched it up to her armpits, tied it around her neck and put on a shrug. Then she'd added her nearly knee length boots to the mix and all of a sudden my little baby looked like a little 80's punk rocker.

And it was all done well! She didn't look like she was attempting a new look, she'd accomplished it.

I couldn't help but wrap my arms around her and smother her 9 year old body against me.

She has a long, long way to go to being an adult, or even a teen, but I'm starting to see the tell-tale signs of it.

So, this morning, after the kids had left I happened to notice the grocery list:

Sunscreen

Bagels (not the small ones please)

Toed socks for my flip flops and only if they are under $20.

Oh dear, there's another sign.