Growing up

For the past couple of days my eight year old daughter has been asking me questions about whether the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus, and the Easter Bunny are real or not. When it first came up, I was in the middle of something and told her that it would have to be a conversation for another day. I was hoping that would hold her off for awhile, but she came right back today with more questions. I didn't know how to evade her questions, so I had to tell her the truth. It broke my heart to see the huge crocodile tears that ran down her face as the childhood excitement surrounding those exciting events melted into oblivion. In the midst of the tears she sadly proclaimed "Mom, I didn't really want to know! I don't think Christmas will be very much fun anymore."

I must admit that I wanted to cry, too. As much as I tried to ease her pain, I felt like I could see her childhood slipping away in one painful instant. I wished I could have taken it back and let the magic live a little longer, but I knew that she had already figured it out before she asked me. She wanted me to disprove her theory and tell her what she wanted to hear. Maybe I should have done it - prolonging the excitement a little bit longer. But, how could I evade her direct questions? I tried to tell her that it was all about what she believed, but that didn't cut it for her. She wanted a real answer, and now she is broken hearted.

As I was thinking about the damage that had been done, it hit me like a ton of bricks - my little girl is growing up a little too fast. Not only will this Christmas be vastly different in her eyes, but it will never be the same for her again. I know it was bound to happen eventually, but I was hoping it would last a little bit longer. This is not just about Christmas, though. It's about being a kid - about the carefree innocence of childhood that is starting to disappear. I just want to wrap her up in my arms and hold on tight, convincing myself (and her) that she will be young and innocent forever - that she doesn't need to grow up quite so fast. What used to be about baby dolls and stuffed animals is now about earrings, clothes, and boys. I know that she is only eight, but sometimes she seems like a teenager trapped in that little body. But, then there are times, like today, when I realize that she is still little - that she still needs me to be there to wipe away those tears when things don't turn out the way that she hopes - that I still have some time to hold her and tell her that everything will be alright. For that I am grateful.