J.B.’s in the hizzouse. So are B.T.R., Taylor, Taylor, Ke$ha, and Selena. Pocahontas, Ariel, Cindy and friends? Gone.
Our little girl who used to leave the house in cute, little, matching Children’s Place outfits is now straightening her hair, donning Jeggings, and carrying a brush into school in case of emergency, as if she disappeared in a magical poof! with the cast of Disney and reappeared as Nina from House of Anubis.
It’s all happening so fast!
No matter how much I wish I could stop time to preserve them as the kids they are today–cuddly, full of affection, innocent–their curiosity and intent to become independent with cell phones and membership in Our World is simply too strong a current to swim against.
It was around 4th or 5th grade when I, too, like my girl, adorned my room with posters of my idols: Farrah Fawcett, Loni Anderson, Cheryl Tiegs, Bo Derrick, and even my man, Mr. Shaun Cassidy. Tennis racket guitaring to “Saturday Night” by the Bay City Rollers. Pretend kissing R.K. in the mirror, but too damn bashful to consummate a real one, even when we were “going steady.”
God grant me the strength to accept
that my little girl is becoming a young lady;
the will power to bite my lip when she gets her first crush;
and the ability to sleep with one ear open
for creaky stairs in the middle of the night.
Relishing today, tomorrow, and the next day as they rapidly pass before my eyes;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting Justin Bieber as a “legitimate artist”;
Taking, as He does, this sinful world and candy-coating it with banal lyrics,
not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His Hair;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him…
Forever…Any day…Hand and foot…Your world…Is my world…Yeah.