Family, motherhood and children

That strange age at twelve, thirteen years in which you do not want them to grow and at the same time you want them to do so

Some time ago I read a post by Armando on Babies and More. A classmate who has a son who was passing at the time of the second Childhood to childhood. And I copied the title (almost). Some will believe that this is only lived once: That moment when they are so rich that you would freeze time forever. Although they are exhausting too. But bad news: no. Today with my 13 year old daughter I feel almost the same. I don't want him to leave childhood. I love her girl. And at the same time, I want to see her grow and know her a independent woman.

Lucia, my daughter, is beautiful, she is a girl, the features of her face are rounded and her skin is perfect. It's sweet, enjoy, run, jump, fall, get up ... I could fly.

He has a bed full of stuffed animals. He puts them at his feet and every night he decides which one he sleeps with. The decision is not easy. He loves everyone. He calls them by name. He refuses to get rid of any. Talk to them.

Less and less, play with dolls. You saw them. Invent stories. She is embarrassed to go for a walk with her babies with the cart. She has remained small, but her friends don't play with babies anymore.

He is not afraid to ask. The answers always bring knowledge, there are no taboos, their parents hide nothing from them. She doesn't hide anything. He has no secrets for us. He has never lied to us. It is frank, natural.

She loves her friends. He has a story with them since childhood and games. They haven't betrayed her yet, they haven't let her down yet. Believe in friendship with all your heart. I drown in tenderness when he writes to his friends in his private instagram: I love you. Friends forever. Always together.

Already fooling around with mobiles and WhatsApp and Instagram and is afraid of messages that threaten pain and suffering when you don't follow the chain. It leaves the groups that say tacos and those that say nothing interesting. He has a blog. He worries if he doesn't post.

If you have a nightmare, come to our bed for comfort. It already measures what I do, but it becomes small and caresses us softly. And he calms down by touching my hair like when I was a baby. In his nights we are his hug. He has not yet felt that a man turns his back on him in bed. He doesn't know what disappointment is.

It is so beautiful ... But defects begin to be found, the hair (beautiful and voluminous) is too much hair and shoots, it comes out "ugly" in the photos. Although he still doesn't hate his weight, his chest, his hip, his nose, his mouth, his hands. It still does not compare with magazine models.

She is such a clown ... She is the one who makes her friends laugh. And in class it must be a piece ... It has humor and character of leader. With 13 years 3 small cousins ​​and a sister who loves her. He still doesn't know the failure.

For her, adolescence is like the disease that turns you into a zombie. He is watching, grieved and terrified, as his companions are falling. One by one He is very aware. And he still doesn't want to be there.

All those still make me not want it to grow. But on the other hand ... I really want it to grow. To see her strong and independent. To chat with her from adult to adult and receive her mature opinion. To feel that he does what he wants to do. To know what woman she becomes.

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