My 7-year old has a loose tooth. Her top middle tooth on the right - well, it's projecting at a 63 degree angle. It's not all that loose really. It wiggles and it twists slightly but it will not push back very far. It gets stopped. I assume by the permanent tooth that's bullying it's way through.
I feel like that loose tooth sometimes while the speeding passage of time is that big, bossy permanent tooth. I want to cling to the child-days, the little girl ways. I want more pink and princess. More cuddles and snuggles.
But time, it keeps on a-movin'.
My sweet girl is maturing into a young lady. She's a little less interested in tea parties. And yet, she still loves dress-up and make believe. Every once and a while she still needs Mommy to rock her and her Daddy's snuggles.
But I see it. The moving of time. The maturing of a little one into an older one. And I find myself, in futility, trying to freeze time's rhythm. Like that protruding, stubborn baby tooth that's just not quite ready to come out.