Hope waxed her eyebrows. Or rather, her friend waxed them for her.
And I am sad.
Not because she had them waxed--I have actually been telling her she should get them plucked a little.
Not because they look bad--her friend did a great job shaping them. In fact, I'm wondering if it would be weird to ask her to do mine.
And not even because I wasn't there--some things I don't want to miss out on, but if I had done it, there more than likely would have been yelling (probably from me) and tears (again, probably from me). This is one experience I am really okay with missing.
I'm sad because it's just one more step in her transitioning from a girl to a woman. When her eyebrows were unruly, I could close my eyes to the rest of her that was changing--all I had to do was focus on her eyes. Now, the eyes looking back at me look more mature and less naïve. More all-knowing and less innocent. More aware and less oblivious.
As much as I am sooooo ready for them to be grown some days (teenagering is occasionally H.A.R.D. y'all!), there are other days when I want to go back a few years (not all the way back to the diaper phase--puh-leaze!) and tell them all the things I wish I could tell them now--those things that would elicit an eye-roll or a "Mom, you're being overprotective."
But for now, I've got to figure out where to look at my daughter and still see the little girl inside her.
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