Both Parts Older and Younger

 Her hair is mussed in the back

remnants of an active sleepy night time.

She is framed by the window--brightness sneaking into our black hotel room.

She stares out the window as I stare at her.

My heart expands and grows...if that's possible.  

Seeing her in her growing, maturing body but still with the ruffled hair--

I ache.

She is both parts older and younger.

And I am both parts nostalgic and excited.

She's my baby.  She will always be my baby.

But she is also her own. And becoming more so every day. 

It's watching her at the orthodontist, her hands clasped in worry...just like I do.

It's watching her in taekwondo, with the soles of her feet flying through the air in an arc.

It's her pouty face full of attitude when she is being forced to do something she doesn't want.

It's her squealy "Thank you, Mom!" at the drive-thru at Sonic as an ice cream shake is passed her way.

It's talking about her crushes and her childish plans of what her wedding will be.  

It's her bringing a brush and lip gloss to picture day so she can preen before the picture is taken.

It's her asking to be able to stay at her elementary school until the end.

It's her crying at the thought of leaving the only place she's called "home."

It's her playing with her stuffed animal five years after she initially was gifted it.

It's doing summersaults in the yard with the neighbors and giggling at their attempts.

It's her designing a bow and arrow and quiver for her Halloween costume and painting them herself.

She is a little bit girl and a little bit woman.

And I love her more every day. Truly.

When it doesn't seem possible to love her more, I do.

As her womanhood emerges, my heart grows.  My pride. My joy.  

She is the girl I always wanted to be growing up.  Prissy. Beautiful. Strong. Brave. Outspoken.  Perfect.

And she's mine.  My girl.  My littlest love.  With the incredible voice and big heart.  

I still ache.