Every year, as a birthday approaches, I tell the kids I won’t allow them to get older: they have to stay the same age forever.
And every year, they laugh at me and say, “Too bad.”
Too bad, indeed.
Sage turns seven today. Or is it 17? Judging by what she asked for – jewelry, makeup (!!!) and clothes – it’s tough to tell. We don’t like to think about what her teen years will bring.
This summer, Sage and I took a girls trip to visit my sister, who lives outside Philadelphia. I hoped the trip would give Sage and me a chance to really bond. Not that we’re not bonded. We are. But two brothers also vie for attention, and sometimes the littlest guy can be quite demanding.
There was a LOT of together time before our trip.
Sage and I spent 10 days away.
We took planes, trains and automobiles. We spent a night in New York City. We swam in my sister’s pool. We shopped. We ate – she tried calamari for the first time and discovered she adores chicken satay. And that she shouldn’t cry when the gelato place doesn’t have vanilla because she got to fall in love with the deliciousness that is dulce de leche.
Sage had a great time being the center of attention. I loved seeing her bask in it. I feel bad she’s never going to have a sister, so it was awesome she and my sister got the chance to get to know each other; Ellen hadn’t seen sage in 3 1/2 years.
She’s a good kid. Funny. Smart. And full of…personality.
I admire my daughter. As much as she can drive me crazy with her Sassy McSassypants-ness, I love her confidence. Her stubbornness, her determination. Traits that will serve her well in life.
Traits that serve her well today.
When I’ll grudgingly allow her to turn seven.