Daddy’s little girl is growing up . . . and he doesn’t like it one bit.
From the moment of her birth when you looked into her face, you were smitten. How you interacted with our little girl was completely different from your interaction with our son. Not bad—just different. You were home from your military deployment to Iraq to greet her at her birth, and then you had to leave again. You wouldn’t see her for seven more months.
Seven months later, a little girl dressed in her pink polka dot dress waited to see her Daddy. When he got off the bus and found his little family, it was love at first sight. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He lit up the world for her in a way that as her mother spending every waking moment with her, I couldn’t. It has continued this way her whole life. You are her hero. You are her everything. For some reason, you are allowed to correct her and be met with acceptance and love, whereas if I correct her, I’m the worst mother ever to roam the Earth.
She is the only person I have ever observed who has been able to wrap you so tightly around her little finger and then get you to do her bidding. She always wants to go with Daddy, because she knows she can talk Daddy into that trip to the ice cream shop or the new toy. Daddy is the one who plays basketball with her, is her biggest cheerleader, and is the one who just “gets” her.
But your little girl is growing up . . . and you’re not quite ready to have that happen yet.
We’ve spent years joking about how you would be cleaning your guns when her first date came to pick her up. She isn’t ready for dating yet (thankfully!), but she is beginning to change, and we are having to slowly warm you up to the idea of it.
We first introduced you to the idea of bras for her. You immediately rejected the notion that your little girl could ever need such an article of clothing. We let it simmer for a few months and then bought some without you knowing. Your expression was one of shock and horror when you found out. She enjoyed a good laugh about that (it was fabulous!).
She is in a hurry to grow up; we are in a hurry to have our little girl slow down. I wonder which of us will win this tug of wills . . .
Though bras, makeup, and boys are in her future, you will always be her first love. The one who lit the world up for her. Her past, her present, and an integral part of her future.