|Psst... I made that swimsuit.|
This week I had one of those moments when you realize your child's life isn't entirely within your control.
On the way to her new gymnastics class, Vicbowin began complaining about her leg hair. After a lengthy conversation I looked down and saw the tell-tale signs of razor use.
"Did you shave your legs?!" I asked in utter shock.
"Uh, yeah." (duh Mom, where have you been)
"More than once?"
"Yeah, I've been shaving my legs since before we left South Dakota."
If that's not unbelievable enough. I think the girl has started into the hormonal meltdown stage.
Heaven help me, but she's a mess lately.
She sleeps in until 9AM every morning (then only getting up at the imminent threat of missing breakfast).
She bursts into tears at things like the lettuce falling out of her hamburger or the Mischievite getting the same McD toy as her.
She makes comments like, "Everyone treats me like a child." or "I'm almost a teenager Dad."
She's definitely hitting that stuck in between stage where she's not quite old enough to sit at the big table, but not quite young enough to enjoy the kiddie table.
She's even started asking questions about periods and hair and BOYS!
Vicbowin won't be ten for three more months.
Like I said, Heaven help me.