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The body book

My parents are into all this teaching about the body thing. They told Brother and I that it’s the age we should learn about it because we will hear things at school or from our friends and they want us to have the right knowledge about it. But I don’t get what could be the wrong knowledge? I started experiencing puberty, says all the books and my dad and mom. Why? Well I have a little few spots on my face (sometimes) and I have a different sort of smell on my body, especially coming from under my arms. Didn’t know that there was even anything under there. But the other day after my shower, I lift up my arms in front of the mirror to brush my hair and… Yikes! Scary! Icky! I’ve got a few hairs under there! Is that puberty too?

Lots of other weird feelings and emotions going on inside of me too; sometimes some growing pains or cramps. I do want to grow up and become beautiful and independent, responsible for my own things so that I don’t have to be told what to do anymore. But, I still want to be young too, to get to play with toys, be babied or given extra attention (and gifts), not have to clean up after myself or learn a whole bunch of things like taking care of my room or cleaning my body and doing my laundry and all that. I guess that’s a bit mixed up cause on one hand I want to be big and grown up so I can use Mom’s clothes and shoes, but then on the other I want to be little and small so I don’t have to fold and put them away or wash them after I use them on. How can I just stay in the middle and have the best of both worlds? Well, I guess I did experience a bit of that lately. Brother has more responsibilities in our house, than I do, cause he’s older, Mom says. He’s waiting for the day that I get to be just as old as him, but he doesn’t realize that I’ll always be a couple years younger, hee.

Mom wants to read this “Girl’s Body” book with me, but I’m just not into that right now. Doesn’t she realize that I want to stay young as long as I can? Because I’ll be old for the rest of my life and I’ll get used to that when I get there. Most of the body stuff, I experience it on my own body anyway. I don’t have to read about someone else’s, do I? Plus, I know God made us all different. No one has exactly the same body type, figure, shape or size. So what is normal for someone else may not even be normal for me. Mom’s such a mom. She wants to help me understand things so that when they come up, I’ll know what to do. But I can always ask her then, can’t I? Thanks Mom, for letting things pass in their good time and for understanding my body needs. I know I can count on you to always be there for me, especially or these “girly” things. But I need some alone time too, without this “body” knowledge getting pushed on me quite yet.

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I’m growing up

It’s baby sitting day! No, I’m not going to have a baby sitter watching over me making sure I eat my breakfast and do my homework and do other things besides watching you tube videos. I’m doing babysitting. No, I’m not sitting on a baby and a baby is not sitting on me. I’m not sitting next to a baby either. Who ever thought of calling it baby sitting anyway? It’s far from just sitting. I’m actually allowed to do almost anything with the two little girls I’m looking out for. And it’s more like running around trying to find the next activity that will keep them happy and occupied. I could start a new “baby running” trend.

We do tea set, water play, picking fruit from the garden, watering the plants, trampoline, building towers, drawing and painting and lots of messes along the way. I enjoy every part of it except when I have to clean up after they leave, that’s the worst. I wish a magic fairy would just come and put it all away.

For this baby sitting, Mom’s given me a few ideas of things that she did with me and my brother when we were young. She even has them on video and I’m allowed to watch them whenever I want, even when I’m not allowed to watch anything else. I think she thinks it’s good training for me. Now I’ve even started my own planner of ideas. This day I will do that activity, that day I will do this. But I realized that my planning is good but lasts only minutes. I need a giant of a list of a planner for these girls. They get bored after just 2 minutes.

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I Miss my Clothes

“No, not that one!” I shouted. “No, not that one either!” Mom made three piles with clothes I had just tried on, that didn’t fit me anymore. One pile to throw away, with stains, holes and lots of wear. Another pile to give away, to someone who we knew could fit into them and appreciate them. A third pile for selling, what was still in good condition.

But I just wanted to KEEP all my clothes. I looked at photos from the past, when I was younger and I couldn’t help admire all those beautiful dresses I was wearing. “What happened to that shirt, Mom?” or “Where did that dress go, that I loved so much?” She told me that we had either given it away or sold it at a car boot. But why? Why do I have to part with all those clothes I got so attached to? Or that were so comfortable?

Mom told me that we just didn’t have space to keep everything, and if I couldn’t wear them anymore, what use does it do me anyway? I guess she had a point there. I tried on again some of those piled up clothes to sell or give away, tucking in my tummy or tucking in my butt. No, no use at all. I couldn’t help it that I’m just getting bigger and taller.

On one end, I do like that. I like that a LOT, cause now I can even borrow some of Mom’s clothes for special occasions. But on the other end, NO! I don’t like it at all, that I can’t fit into my loveliest clothes that I would keep forever if I could. Especially those special occasion ones that didn’t happy very often. I turned 11 this year and that’s not a kid anymore. I’m officially a real preteen and I joined middle school. That means I have the right to change some things about myself, right? So I decided that I will wear ALL my clothes, even the ones saved up for special occasions. Seeing my friends at school is a special occasion. Going out on a walk for an ice cream is a special occasion. Living LIFE is a special occasion. So I’ll just enjoy each moment and each of my pretty clothing as best as I can, when I can, before they get too small for me again!

Oh, back to those piles Mom made. It ended up being not too bad an idea. That way I could make some money to get new clothes. I emptied out my cupboard and got it ready to fill up again, after all. The giving pile, I remember when one of my cousins gave me her clothes when they didn’t fit her anymore. I really, really liked that because I got lots of clothes that we wouldn’t have thought of buying, just because it’s not like I really needed them, but they were just nice to have. Like 10 different dresses instead of just 3 or 4. Or 5 pairs of shorts when I only really got around to wearing 2-3 of them. “Well, okay!” I finally settled for Mom’s bright idea of the 3 piles. The stained or holy ones wouldn’t do anyone any good anyway, except to help fill up our trash can and make the garbage men happy that they were finally emptying a filled up can.

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The Gift

Everyone waited with a big breath! What could it be? The bag opened almost too slowly… and then… we saw it! The most beautiful dress ever! From my dear Aunt. She always gets me a dress for my birthday. She said that this year she couldn’t find one that she liked so she was about to get me something else. But then she did find one after all, last-minute thing. Oh, I’m so happy for the last minute she continued to look.

She treats me every birthday to a beautiful dress. She has a nice style, and chooses just what I like. This time it was dark blue and very thin, wavy material. It matched perfectly with my long blond hair. I tried it on and it was a just right fit. How does she get it perfect every time? How does she know I will like it? She must be very in tune, I think. I guess she was a girl my age once upon a time. And sometimes I guess that’s how God is with us. He knows what we’ll like and what is good for us even when we don’t always know it.

I saw Mom’s look on her face. I could tell that she wished she had one just like it. We kind of borrow each other’s clothes sometimes cause we’re almost the same size. I wear size 12 and she wears between 12 and 14. I’m only a few centimeters away from her now. The nurse at school measured me the other day. Mom was shocked how quickly I caught up, in just a few months. Well, usually it’s me borrowing her clothes cause she has lots more than I do. She goes to these book fairs and events and needs nice to clothes to wear there, so she gets a dress from her sister, my aunt, every year too, for her birthday. Those are always beautiful as well. Soon they’ll fit me. I can’t wait.

The other day I told Mom to take really good care of her clothes. When Dad asked why, I had to be honest. “Because they will belong to me soon! When I fit into them, I can have them.” But Dad was not convinced and let me know that even though I may be growing and changing and will very soon fit into her clothes, she is NOT. Oh boy! But that’s not what I wanted to hear.

I will still make sure that Mom takes really good care of all her pretty dresses and clothes. I can make sure she doesn’t stain them or over-wear them – for ME!! Is that even a word? Over-wear? Does it mean what it says? Well, it has lots of meaning to me. And, and I can’t forget about her shoes, her boots, her … Because, because, they will go to me soon! Sooner than she thinks. Look how quickly I grew? I guess to look on the bright side of things, the UPside is that I can at least borrow them sometimes. I guess we could still kind of “share” clothes maybe? Even though Dad says I can’t have Mom’s wardrobe.