Little Girls Growing Up

When I learned I was pregnant, I hoped the baby would be a boy. Not because I didn’t want a girl but because I was afraid I would not be a very good mother for a female child. I couldn’t see myself trying to fix her hair so it looked pretty, or dressing her so she looked cute, or doing some of the things I knew mothers were supposed to do as part of raising their girls.

Looking back now, I realize I almost certainly would have been a good mother to a girl, but as it happened, we had a boy. And as life happened, I never had a daughter, or a daughter-in-law, or a granddaughter.

So, I watched with interest the daughters of friends as they grew up and got married and had children of their own.

I especially enjoyed watching from a distance as my brother's daughter (in the front) and my sister's two daughters...

grew up....

and got married, and now my brother's (that's him in the background, being silly) daughter...

has a daughter of her own.

I sort of thought I was done watching girls grow up, until our neighbors moved next door with their 3 children – a son and 2 daughters – in January 2012.

The kids were “little” and now 8 years later, they aren’t.

The last week of September was “Daughter’s Day” on Facebook, and our neighbor posted this picture of her oldest daughter, Hannah, which took my breath away.

A day or two after this picture appeared, Richard was up at our mailbox and noticed one of the girls riding one of the family's dirt bikes. 

Same girl. The girl obviously has other interests.

And then there’s the youngest daughter, Faith, who also dances in the ballet...

and makes wonderful sweet rolls (which they gave us for Christmas), and now I realize was at least partially responsible for the sounds of “World War III” that erupted from their place a few days ago.

She too obviously has other interests.