Thirteen

Sophie Grace Hartwell is officially thirteen today, and I’m having all the feelings about it.

Thirteen

This morning she rolled her eyes at literally everything I said - my outfit choice for her party, the way I pronounce “aesthetic,” the fact that I exist in the same room as her friends. But tonight, after everyone went home and we were cleaning up wrapping paper and cake plates, she curled up next to me on the couch like she used to when she was little.

The eye-roll to earnest conversation pipeline is real

We talked about everything and nothing - her friends, high school next year, whether she’s too old for the stuffed animals in her room (verdict: absolutely not). She’s taller than me when she wears heels now. She steals my setting spray and somehow makes it look better on her than it does on me. She has opinions about everything and the vocabulary to express them beautifully.

Birthday selfie attempt number 47 (she finally cooperated)

I keep oscillating between “my baby is growing up too fast” and “holy cow I raised an incredible human.” She’s becoming this amazing person right before my eyes - funny, smart, kind, stubborn as hell (wonder where she gets that). The eye rolls are real, but so are the moments like tonight when she still wants to be close to her embarrassing mom. Thirteen looks good on her.