Last week, I was talking with my 6 year old about moving. We daydreamed about her room and how we would decorate it. As a mother of 4 boys, I dreamed of pink and girly. She had something else in mind.
"Mom, I'm not a girly girl; I'm a soccer girl." Spoken like the tough girl she is. My shy mouse changes completely when she ties on her shoes and steps onto the soccer field. The ball is hers and the other team needs to just step aside. A soccer girl.
She's gotten so big this year. She's gone from still having a baby belly to being lean and athletic. She raises an eyebrow at fluffy skirts, and demands a bit of funk and sequin to go with her pink. I can live with the funk.
Her father and I were just talking about how big she is getting to be when we found her curled up and sleeping on the couch. Sucking her thumb and playing with her belly button just as she did when she was too small to chase that soccer ball down the field.
She may be tough, but she's still my baby.
(I took this with my phone, so it's not the best resolution. Sorry)