One of the things I really enjoy about my doll is her willingness to remain my little girl. She often tells me “I don’t want to grow up!” But I have a feeling this has more to do with her shifting hormones than anything else. Yet one of the ways she has demonstrated her desire in the past, has been to hold my hand, regardless where we are.

What I liked the most was finding her reaching forward and initiating the hand hold. I felt like the luckiest mom on the planet–my doll still needed me and she was proving it to the world! But I know these are (were) fleeting moments… Lately I’ve found myself reaching back, trying to invite her hand into mine and coming up empty. My little girl is growing up; growing self conscious and moving forward, away from me; to brave the world at hand. I understand this is a rite of passage for both of us, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it!
Last night before bedtime, an exhausted doll sought me out as tears burst down her face. “Doll what’s wrong?” I asked, though I believed I already knew the answer. For the past few days she had been away on a GirlScout camp out and was thoroughly wiped out. “I…just… (Sigh) want…ted to a huuuug” she stammered out. Opening my arms I gladly accepted her into a hug and kissed the crown of her head. “I just really missed giving you bedtime hugs” she squeaked out as we continued to hold onto one another. I rocked her back and forth, lifted her head to plant loving kisses on her forehead and said “Doll you’re so tired. I missed you too” all the while trying to absorb the hug and commit to memory the feel of my tweenage girl still loving her mommy.

All in all she hugged on me for fifteen glorious minutes…fleeting though they were…


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