My little girl

My little girl, the eleven-year-old, is growing up. Today we went to Barnes and Noble and got a book that she really wanted, an American Girl brand book about going to Middle School. All evening she carried it around and read to me tidbits about how to organize a locker and the best places to sit in a classroom (the 'T' zone, where you can see and hear the teacher). Next year is going to be such a change, and I'm glad that she's looking forward to it and anticipating the changes with excitement.

I'm a little scared for how it's actually going to go for her, though. Today we also talked about how disappointing it is for her that none of her friends at school like to play "imaginary games" any more. She's the last one left who still wants to invent kingdoms where there are good guys and bad guys (and unicorns) and exciting things happen during recess, instead of just playing basketball or giggling about the boys. There's one girl who will sometimes talk about horses, and that's almost as good as playing imaginary games, but not quite as good, since she doesn't want to run around and pretend to be a horse or a unicorn.

I so love that my daughter still has an imagination, that she still wants to explore her dreams, that she still wants to play. She is bright, articulate and creative. She's not interested in fashion or fads, and she can be quite independent. I'm trying to encourage her to write stories as a way to channel her imagination, and she'd like to. Hopefully we will really work on that together, not just talk about it. She's still human, though, and longs to have more friends, and I'm not sure these qualities of hers that I so appreciate will bring her much social acceptance in Middle School.

My little girl is growing up. I'm praying for God's grace to be with her, as she navigates these coming waters. And I'm praying for wisdom as a parent, because I want to both encourage her uniqueness and innocence, and to support her in finding friends. These are lessons I'm still working on for myself, though, so I'm feeling challenged to guide my daughter through them.

Tonight I read Roxaboxen again and cried a little, and wondered if my daughter will one day have her own such story to tell...