I got up early this morning and made her some breakfast. She wanted bacon and toast. No eggs. I poured her a glass of milk only to be informed that she doesn’t really like milk to drink anymore. I’ll have to start thinking about another way for her to get enough calcium I suppose. We talked about where she ought to keep her phone, and that it needs to stay on silent. That I’d want her to take out the trash for me when she gets home. How she wants to redecorate her room, selling her current bedroom set for something a little less little girl.

And she is less a little girl than ever before. When I mentioned I was excited for her to go to Outdoor School, and that it had been the best week of my life when I was 12 she looked at me seriously and said “Mommy, that makes me kinda sad.”

As she was walking out the door, she submitted to be photographed with relative good cheer. As I looked at her standing there I almost cried, but I think I hid it pretty well. My sweet daughter is not as prone to sentiment as I am, but she would have comforted me gently if I had. I wanted to spare her the energy of having to. She was utterly composed, but then, she is way cooler than I am.