Growing Up

 

 

An article about growing up

By Joy Smith

 

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It doesn't seem like that many months ago that I was exclaiming that I had a baby and my husband asked what I thought I was going to have, lol. Now my little baby girl is almost 8 years old. Funny, articulate, artistic, sensitive, caring and thoughtful, and I love her even more than ever. I recall her second Christmas, when she asked for a pink glittery toothbrush from Santa. I recall vividly making the footprints leading from the fireplace to the tree using a size 12 shoe and carefully sprinkling flour around it each year. Gnawing on the carrot was always great fun after a large glass of ginger wine! 

Then last year questions started to be asked and a couple of months ago I neatly sidestepped a direct question about whether Father Christmas actually existed. Then it came again last week. This time I couldn't sidestep it and I couldn't tell a lie. I had to admit, that no, Santa doesn't really exist. She said she thought it was just Mummy & Daddy who did everything - including eating the stuff we left out for Father Christmas, Rudolf and even an extra cookie for Mrs Christmas. Yes, sweetheart, it is. We do it to make Christmas seem even more magical. It broke my heart at the same time as it made it sing. The end of one era and the start of a new one. She decided not to let on to her younger brother as it would spoil the magic of his Christmas and that brought a lump to my throat too! 

And the Birthday Fairy and the Easter Bunny too? Yes, sweetheart, that was also Mum & Dad. No questions yet about the Tooth Fairy - possibly the next tooth that comes out will trigger that one.

It seems my baby is growing up, and I am so proud of her too!

 

 

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