Seven is a funny age.
Mare is really truly not a baby any more. I know I have said that a bunch of times — like, when she turned six months old, for example. And then when she was a year old. And two. And three, and so on.
What makes this time different?
Sarcasm.
“Do I need glasses?” she asks Dr. Button hopefully at her annual physical.
“No,” he replies. “But you might some day.”
“Yeah,” she says, “’cause, like, no one in my family wears them at all.”
“I think your mother and father both do,” he says.
She throws me a pained look. How tragic is her life — humor so dry even the MD missed it. I know, Mare, I know. Some day maybe you will have a blog to store it all.
Mare is the first of her species, and everything new to her is new to us, too. My role as a mother is changing. I’m no longer the hand that feeds, dresses, pats, comforts, brushes her off when she falls. She does those things for herself now. Where I once had to urge her on, I find my role now is often to hold her back. I wonder what movie ratings actually mean, and contemplate my policy on Ear Piercing. My days are filled with a series of verdicts on what she’s ready for and what she’s not.
She sits on the couch with us to watch Harry Potter, she gives her Dad grief about his reading skills, calls her friends.
Baby Mary — the chubby-cheeked girl of my dreams — is gone forever. In her place, a slender, ponytailed little woman with a wicked laugh.
“Momma, what does ‘Karenna’ mean?” she asks me.
“‘Gorgeous Crazy One,’” I answer.
“Totally,” she replies. “Don’t forget ‘doesn’t listen to anyone.’”
“Ah??” Ren says.
“I was just saying what a good listener you are,” she replies without skipping a beat.
Sad as I am that Baby Mary is gone, young Mary is becoming increasingly a person I can talk to.
“Momma I did something cool,” she says with a shy smile, wringing her shirt and looking down at the floor.
“No you didn’t,” I laugh. “You did something you’re not sure you should have done and you’re hoping if you’re cute enough I won’t be mad.”
The meekness slips away and she laughs. “Fine,” she says. “I went on the computer and printed little notes for my friends, is that okay?”
Okay? I don’t know. I know when you can eat solids, roll over, climb stairs unsupervised, attend drop-off birthdays. But the freaking Internet??
The great luxury for me is that whenever I get nostalgic for her baby days, I just go grab the baby. And then I kiss her and tickle her belly and tell her how sorry I am that she will never be allowed to grow up, no matter how many advanced degrees she acquires. I see now how it happens. Eden will be at the kiddie table when I’m in my nineties. She’ll be sitting there with her own grandchildren hoping that this will be the year she’s allowed to get her ears pierced.
I devote my life to giving them every chance to grow into fierce, smart, powerful women. But it means helping them to send away the babies they were, the babies that I loved more than I knew it was possible to love.
I feel the same way about my baby girl. Poor dear.
And similarly about my 7-year-old. It’s both wonderful and heartbreaking that they are growing up.
Jadyn turned 4. Just about any hint of baby is gone from her already. She has opinions, preferences and a crazy fun sense of humor. Then she got glasses and I would swear to you she grew 3 years in a day.
She’s my one and only so far. No baby to snuggle. So instead I settle for those few-and-far-between moments when she snuggles up to me after a bath and says, “Mama, hold me like a baby.”
That just melted my heart! (As did the comment from Yankee Amanda because my 3 yr old also asks me to “hold her like a baby” after the bath!) Thanks for sharing the bittersweet journey of watching your dreams realized and lost all at the same time!
So achingly beautiful…I want to come back in my next life as your daughter!
We are there too.
You touched my heart this morning. You put words on things I’ve been feeling. So, so very true!
Maman of 4 amazing kids: 10 yo boy, 7 yo girl (on the 25th), 3 yo girl and 20 month old boy).
Mare got me with her dry wit the other day — my God, they’re growing up fast. She is such a beautiful girl.
Humph. I’m 40 and just got my ears pierced because of my big. Remind me to kick her when she is showing me pictures of her grandchildren this weekend.
Nice post, Liz. I truly dig being a parent to these sophisticated little people. They scare the crap outta me, but I dig it.
My oldest is only 5, but I’m starting to feel this way too.
Mine will be 8 in February (I’ve been following your blog since before Ren was born), and YES.
I was looking at my slender, long-limbed blonde girl this morning thinking how odd it was that she is Really her own person now, and how all of a sudden I feel I’m hanging on for dear life because soon she’s going to GO. And that will be it, because I don’t have another baby to snuggle.
But she is also so fun to hang around, and funny like Mare. I love the sarcasm.
Holy carp, Liz! I saw that headline and thought “oh no, Liz is having twins!” LOL
My babies are 17 and 14 (although within the next three months they will be 18 and 15) and my sisters daughters are now 4 and 7, so I am having a nephew shipped in from Arizona for thanksgiving (with his parents of course) that is only 9 months old. I figure if everyone else keeps having babies I can snuggle I’ll be okay.
That hard part is watching them grow AWAY a bit every day, even though that is of course how define job well done — they become independent beings. My 7 YO boy clearly has a whole world going on in his head that he does not want to share with me. (Thank goodness my 4YO girl suffers from TALKY-ITIS.) But I do love that he gets the jokes, and can roll his eyes at little sister, and patronize her a tiny little bit. It does make me feel like he is on the adult team now.
Amazing isn’t it? My baby is about to turn 10. I think I want to puke.
wow at all the love and journey that awaits me… so cool! By the way, I’ve always loved the dialogue in your writing, and I used to wonder how you could keep full conversations in your head long enough to write them down. At some point I wondered if you made them up, and now I see that they’re just too funny to forget!
7 year old girls are awesome. My seven year old is such great company these days. She makes me laugh all the time. The world of reading has swallowed her whole and I love when she comes to me full of excitement about the next chapter in her book. For any mother out there with a struggling reader – take heart! My daughter struggled mightily all through first grade and only now, in second grade do I finaly get to yell “put the book down at the dinner table!!”
such a lovely post – 7 is a GREAT age. So interesting and interested, and changing so very very fast.
Aaawwwe! What a great post! My oldest daughter just turned 5 the other day. I actually cried. This year felt significant for some reason. I think a lot of it is that she’s become so much more grown up in the last 6 months. I’m NOT ready yet. Not yet….
Seven is at once beautifully innocent and keenly aware; so impressionable and passionately fervent in their beliefs are the sevens of the world. The eye-rolls are being perfected daily and their big girl giggles are perfectly formed yet their loyalty lies so very close to home! I actually love seven!