Happy Birthday, Brenna!
Today is my middle daughter’s 12th birthday. I can’t believe how grown-up she looks. Or how big she is.
Out of my five children she was the smallest at birth, just 6lbs, 15 oz and 19 inches. She just seemed so tiny after my 9lb, 3oz son who was born just thirteen months before her.
In another year she joins the ranks of teenagers giving me three in the same house (yikes!). My older two have already crossed over (they are 14 and 13), but for some reason this one is going to be harder. Right now, though, she’s stuck in that in-between world of young woman and child. For her birthday I got her two teen magazines so she could read all the gossip and drool over her favorite celebrities and a bunch of girl Legos (the pink/purple ones with cutsie little people and animals).
It’s so strange because my oldest daughter made the switch completely and almost over night when she hit 12–she was suddenly too old for Barbies and toys and no longer played with friends, but hung out. I love that Brenna is old enough to chat about more mature things. A few weeks ago we watched The Walking Dead together and all she could talk about was how there wasn’t enough Daryl in the episode. I was dying at her obsession with Four in Divergent. We watched that movie three times in a row.
And then she’ll turn around and go to the playground to play tag or watch Spongebob.
I don’t know if I want her to stay little forever or get to growing up so we can have more fun talking about hot actors.