8 is the new 18

Last week I watched some home videos from my childhood.  My father spent some insane amount of money to copy all of our old reel-to-reel movies onto 7 cds.  I noticed two things.  First, home furnishings in the 1970’s were surprisingly orange and avocado and Second, little girls used to act like little girls.  In one of the videos, I was about 9 or 10 years old.  I was dancing around our living room with 5 or 6 of my best neighborhood friends in our flannel Holly Hobbie nightgowns.  We giggled and pranced around and held hands in a circle.  We looked and danced like little girls.  We were little girls.

So, why does my 8 year old little girl act like a teenager (and do not even get me started on my 4 year old)?  My sweet little thing suddenly knows the words to songs I have never heard of and dances like her livelihood depends on it.  She has attitude and knows how to appropriately roll her eyes (no idea where she learned that one *wink *wink).  She wants to wear high heels and “fancy” clothes.  Some mornings she looks like she is going to the office instead of 3rd grade (thanks for the black knee high boots, Grandma).  The other day she told me I would “never understand her”.  Sweetheart, you are only 8.  If I cannot understand you now, we are in for some troubling times.  I do not understand how you have matured so far beyond your years.  We have tried to keep you sheltered and innocent.  We do not let you watch inappropriate movies, you are rarely out of our sight and we encourage you to do little girl things.  But, you have never loved dolls, you are suspicious of the Tooth Fairy, you refuse to play board games and dislike any Disney channel that includes the word “Jr.”.  I am at a loss. I think I am going out this week buy you a Holly Hobbie nightgown.

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