…and then she was eight…

Today is Abigail’s eighth birthday.  It’s also my 12th wedding anniversary and my parents 50th….but that’s beside the point…

I can’t believe that the oldest of our three daughters is already eight.  She will be starting third grade in a mere week.  It seems like only yesterday that I was presented with my first child after 13 hours of labor.  What a moment.  I was crying with joy while my husband was overcome with love at first sight and the responsibility of another human being.  Some people swear that having children doesn’t change your life.  It sure has changed ours…

It has been wonderful.  The sound of my children laughing is the best sound on earth.  I love watching them when they make a new discovery or grasp a new concept.  I love their creativity.  If I had written down every imaginary conversation they had when they thought they weren’t being watched, I would be a best-selling author.  Some days are glorious.  Of course, there are also days that I’m ready to pull my hair out and evenings when all I want is to have a quiet dinner with Robert and times that I am frustrated to the point of insanity.  But having children has taught me a lot about myself.  More often than I’d like to admit, I’m not as patient as I need to be.  I love kid’s movies…Finding Nemo and Over the Hedge still make me laugh every time.  I can make a righteous birthday cake and an equally fabulous Halloween costume.  I can calm a screeching two year old in less than a minute. I know the value of a trustworthy babysitter…but I still can’t make the two and a half hours between snack time and dinner time go by any faster…

For the first eight years, I have tended to Abigail’s every need, solved as many of her problems as I could and butted heads with her often.  I’m no idiot – I know the head butting will continue!  But I also know that she is entering a new phase of her life.  She is becoming more and more independent every day.  She knows people that I didn’t introduce her to.  She doesn’t need me to pick out her outfits in the morning. She has issues at school that I can’t deal with for her. I can’t solve the quarrels between her and her friends.  I can only be there for her to talk to and hope that she still wants to talk to me at all after the age of 12!  By now though, she knows how to be polite, how to consider others’ feelings, how to work the DVD player, how to call home if she needs me and how to follow our “house rules”.  She went down a huge, fast, twisty water slide for the first time a couple of weeks ago like she had done it a million times before.  She is still a child but she is no longer a little kid.

I am good at little kids.  I am a pro when it comes to babies.  I can manage 3 kids ages 5 and under with one hand tied behind my back.  But an eight year old?  Only time will tell….