Monday, January 17, 2011

She's growing up...and I'm pretending to like it.

Today Emma's little neighbor friend was out front, playing with her dog Maggie. Since it was an unusually warm January day I encouraged curious Emma to play outside with her friend and their furry companion.
I found them a few minutes later in our neighbor's side yard, and with as must strength as I could muster I asked Emma to make sure to let me know before she went anywhere, so that I was aware of where she was and also to avoid having our neighbors think my daughter roamed the neighborhood at the ripe old age of 3. I explained that she needed to come straight home when the 2 girls were done playing, or when our neighbor's Mommy said our sweet neighbor girl had to come in. "Yes, Mama," Emma responded.
About 10 minutes later the front door creaked open and my 3 (going on 10) year old baby girl had just walked back (albeit 15 feet) from her playdate.
"How was it?" I asked...
"Fine. Ella had to go so I came home," she said.
I smiled and told her how proud I was of her as she was becoming such a fabulous, responsible little girl...but secretly I thought that maybe putting a dead bolt really high on the front door might slow down these attempts at large leaps in responsibility.

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