Tomorrow is Miss V's last day of seventh grade. Today she attended the Big School-Wide Picnic at a nearby park. Of course, being mid-June in the PNW, it was overcast and threatened to rain all day. Just as they boarded the bus to head back to school, the sun came out and shone brilliantly all over the place. Stop picking on the junior high kids, Mother Nature.
V is at such a strange point in her development. She is noticeably more of a teenager than she was at the start of the year. She is listening to the radio more, spending more time on the phone and social networking, attempting to stake more claims on concepts and interests she thinks of as definitively hers. And then she goes to a consignment store to buy a few new dresses, puts them on one at a time to show off what she bought, and spins and spins like a little girl enchanted with her new poofy skirt.
I want to know where that little person goes. Not that I'm against her becoming a teenager (and even if I were, there wouldn't be much I could do about it), but in the process the childlike part of her personality seems to drown by degrees. I already miss the V who would jump in bed with us on a Saturday morning, the one who wanted to be swung up in the air between us as we walked together, the one who would sometimes throw her arms around you for no reason and say, "I love you."
Yes, I realize the whole point of parenting (or, in my case, full-time auntie-ing) is to work yourself out of a job. But I think it's all right to admit I miss the Wee Bairn of old.