Changeling

Since before Halloween, my lovely daughter J has insisted that she is a rabbit.

When people ask J her name she confidently, and pleasantly, says, "Rabbit." When I call her my "sweet baby girl" she corrects me: "Rabbit." (Sometimes this is said under her breath and sometimes she just says it in a very matter-of-fact tone. Duh, mom.) When I ask her what she'd like to wear she says, "A Pink RABBIT shirt."

(She doesn’t own a single piece of clothing with a rabbit on it. It seems all shirts are "rabbit" shirts.)

She was THRILLED when she discovered that she would be able to dress as a rabbit (A PINK RABBIT) on Halloween. And all the parties surrounding Halloween.

On Saturday she declared that she’s a dog.

No more rabbit.

I already miss rabbit.

(It’s worth noting that my son S claims to be “Fireman Sam.” Yesterday, though, he asked to be called an “engineer.” Might have something to do with the new train table, y’ think?)

All the clichés are true: they grow up too fast, you blink and they grow two inches, they look different every day…

A good friend gave me some awesome advice shortly before I had S & J: She said to take pictures CONSTANTLY. Don’t stop. Even if you think the moment is not worth capturing, just everyday happenings... These images are the only record of how quickly time passes. As a result I take my camera everywhere and always have it charged and at the ready.

I want to remember when J changes into a princess or a giraffe or a flower. Or if she becomes a rabbit again.

I want to somehow capture the changes.

I may never get used to them changing so much, all the time, but I want to remember those changes and enjoy HOW they are changing. It's a never-ending, fascinating, and absolutely lovely sight.