My daughter starts middle school today, which makes perfect sense because about eight seconds ago she was a 2 lb. 9 oz. preemie who fit in the palm of her father's hand.

Two seconds after that she was wearing pigtails and skipping and making me recite "The Three Little Pigs" over and over. Then she started reciting "The Three Little Pigs" and, somehow, even though it was only about five seconds ago, I have a 30 minute long video of her telling that story.

Oh my goodness, did that girl like to talk! One day, my left ear fell onto the floor and she just kept going...like she was waiting for the right one to do the same thing. Okay, I'm exaggerating. Slightly.

She was so smart. She still is. But, smart when you're a toddler is different than smart when you're eleven. She sang God Bless America in front of huge groups...hundreds of people...when she had just turned three. So, yeah, that kind of smart. Now, she knows geometry, which makes her smarter than I have ever been.

She has always had a big heart and a sensitive soul, but about one second ago she got kind of hormonal. That means that she's SUPER sensitive, but doesn't always show a sensitive side. So, she has no problem being mean to her brother and making him cry, but when I tell her to stop it? Her tears could fill a bucket.

I used to think we were so much alike, and we are in a lot of ways, but more and more I see her becoming her own person. Which scares me a lot. I knew what to expect when she acted like me. I even knew what to expect when she acted like her father. *cough* button-pusher *cough*

These days, she does her own thing a lot. It's her music, her posters on the wall, her choices, her decisions. I hope she makes the right ones. Just saying that makes me want to lock her in a room forever.

Don't get me wrong, she's only eleven. She doesn't have a cell phone, she still goes to bed at a decent hour, she can't see PG-13 movies...except for Transformers because, duh, it's Transformers.

She still needs her mommy sometimes, but I'm 39 and I still need mine, so that doesn't make me feel much better. And, when I think about how dumb I acted when I started driving and then when I went to college...well, she's just never driving or enrolling in higher education. That's all there is to it.

Of course, that's not true. She will grow up, despite my best efforts to keep her a child.

All I know, is that in a few more seconds my baby girl will still be my girl, but she won't be my baby anymore. As much as I love seeing her grow, I really wish I could stop this clock.

Labels: Getting Old, Kids, Prematurity, Ramblings