My oldest hit the double digits this Friday, and oh, what celebrating there was!
I was all ready for that. I'd made one cake, bought another, wrapped the presents, gotten the house ready for the onslaught of ten year who would pour into it the next day. We were ready to celebrate.
What I wasn't expecting was the trepidation. Not mine. Hers.
DD: Mama, should I be excited?
Me: (trying to hide surprise) Sure. You're turning ten. That's a big deal.
DD: I don't want to get older.
Me: Why not?
DD: I like being nine. I want to be nine for forever.
I didn't totally get it. I was one of those kids who was nine going on nineteen. So come Saturday night, I went into the slumber party/night of silly 10 year old fun trying to catch glimpses not only of the allure of kiddom she sees but of its magic.
You know, I must have been blind as a kid. There was a Jupiter Jump, cookie cake, water balloon fights, sleepover with ten girls, movies - The Indian in the Cupboard, Hotel for Dogs, Marley and Me - gummy bears, popcorn, donuts, swinging, and laughing. Oh, was there laughing!
Most of all, there was abandon. Abandon to swim in it all, in the moment, in the fun, the silliness, the excitement, and the total exhaustion.
What was I thinking trying to grow up so fast??
I understand now why she is worried about getting older. Worried about losing that part of childhood and all that goes with it.
She's a smart kid, smarter than her mom. Hopefully, some of adulthood will eventually appeal to her. But after Saturday night, I get why there's no hurry getting there. There's so much to see until then. I'm glad I get to see it with her.
Petrichor, pernickety and brouhaha
1 hour ago