My mackerdoodle is a traditionalist. She likes to do things the same way every time. Bed time routine has to go down pretty much the same way every night. We have to do catechism questions in the kitchen, because that’s where we used to do them in Georgia. Ever since she was old enough to articulate a preference, bath time has had to include her hooded “super towel.” It had to be her pink super towel, not one of her brothers blue towels.
Until two weeks ago.
Two weeks ago, the mackerdoodle announced that she was a big girl, and she would like a big towel like I used please.
On one hand it’s a practical solution. She’s getting too tall for the hooded towels, and if the snickerdoodle is a girl, she would need those towels.
But on the other hand, I was sad to fold those little hooded pieces of tradition and lay them aside. She’s growing up and my little baby has been left in the dust by a “big girl” who is aiming for older with sheer determination.
I know that if she wasn’t growing up, for any reason, I would be grieving that. I know that this will be the rule of things for the rest of my relationship with her – her pressing herself toward independence, while I fold and put away little pieces of tradition along the way. I wouldn’t want it to be any other way, but it still pinches when it happens.