I’ve spent the better part of a week sewing various things. This also means that I made multiple trips to the fabric store over the last few months. Every time I go through the pattern books I get a little sad.

I see all the patterns for infants, and toddlers and they don’t fit my girls anymore. SuperChic is in a size 8-10 and Rapunzel is in a 12-14 (pattern sizing is different than regular clothing). Where last summer I had to buy two patterns if I wanted the girls to have matching outfits this summer I only had to buy one. They are just getting to big, plain and simple.

Last week I made pajamas for Annalie’s birthday, this week I made the same one’s for Rapunzel. I couldn’t believe how much bigger they were. It really does seem like the years have just flown by. I swear that when she went to bed last night she was an inch shorter.

The little girl whose head only came to my waist is now a young lady (figuratively speaking) almost as tall as I am. I keep telling her that she has to stop growing, but she just laughs at me. Doesn’t she realize that I’m serious? She can’t grow up on me, I won’t allow it.

So I’m formally announcing that this will be Rapunzel’s final birthday. She is not allowed to get any older, grow any taller, or get any more definition in her waist or bust, and she is definitely not allowed to have an interest in boys.

I remember being 11, so it really can’t have been that long ago, could it?

Even though so many things are different now, so many of them are the same. I hated it when my Mom would take me to get my haircut. She always had them feather my bangs, I hated having my bangs feathered. Rapunzel hates it when I “do” her hair. I had to wear pajamas to bed even if it was just an old t-shirt no matter how hot I was. Rapunzel has to at least sleep in a t-shirt bra. I had more responsibilities at home. I’m the most horrble Mom ever because she has to do chores and she doesn’t even get paid for doing them. The fact that I don’t get paid to make dinner or do laundry doesn’t matter. Though SuperChic has started giving me a penny or two after dinner, as payment.

All these things meant that there was lots of eye-rolling from me and sighing from my Mom. The title of Champion Eye-Roller has been passed to Rapunzel. Whether she’s been asked/told to clean her room, do her homework or take a shower, she rolls her eyes before she even thinks about doing it. After the eye-roll comes the sigh, then the sulk. Then maybe, just maybe, she’ll do whatever it was you wanted her to do. If she can remember what it was.

Speaking of showers, why is it such a battle to get her to take one? I mean, she’ll come home from school say she stinks and then go back outside and play. Why not go take a shower? I don’t care if she takes another one after she plays outside. Some days I just want to pick her up, carry her to the bathroom, stick her in the tub, and turn the shower on. The only thing that keeps me from doing this is the humiliation it would cause, because I might see “something.”

While in so many obvious ways you can see how much she’s changed and matured. There are some things that you don’t get to see. Some things that she saves just for me.

You don’t see how she cuddles with me when we watch tv. You don’t see the hug and kiss I get every night before bed. You don’t see the laughter in her eyes when I whisper a “secret” in her ear.

These are things that she saves just for me, and if I’m lucky these are the things that will never change.

A conversation with SuperChic:

Me: You need a bath, you stink.

SuperChic: No baths

Me: You can take a bath tomorrow morning before school.

S: No more baths.

Me: Would you like to take a shower?

S: No!.

Me: You want to go to school all stinky.

S: Yes. I never want to take a bath or shower again.

Me. Then I guess you’ll never get married, ’cause boys don’t like stinky girls.

S: Yes they do.

Me: No they don’t. They like girls who smell nice and clean.

S: Not the cool ones.

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A conversation with Rapunzel

Rapunzel: I don’t like driving by the grave.

Me: You mean the cemetery? Graves are what the casket goes in. The cemetery is what the graves are in.

R: Oh. Well I don’t like them. They stink.

Me: They what?

R: They stink.

Me: Why?

R: Because of all the dead people.

Me: They do not stink.

R: Yes they do. It has a dead body in it, it has to stink.

Me. Nope they use embalming fluid to make it so your body doesn’t rot so fast. Otherwise you couldn’t see people before they were buried. They’d be all stinky and their skin would be coming off and there’d be lots of bugs.

R: Well, when it does start to rot it’s going to smell and the smell will come out.

Me: Nope. They seal the casket, but you can just bury me in a pine box and let the worms eat me. I won’t need my body anymore.

R: Well, what about those room ones? They have to smell bad.

Me: You mean a mausoleum or tomb? They’re still in a casket. It shouldn’t smell.

R: You don’t know. You’ve never been in one.

Me: No, I haven’t, but your Grandpa’s Grandpa or Uncle is buried in a wall in a cemetery. I’ve been there and he wasn’t the only one. There was a whole wall with dead people in it and it didn’t smell at all.

R: Why was he buried in a wall?????

Me: I have no clue. Ask your Grandpa.