As you know, I'm the proud, happy mother of two growing, lovely, self-confident, brilliant, and talented little girls. And did I mention that they're wonderful? They are, indeed.

Interestingly, in the past week or so, I've been confronted with the reality of just exactly who they are versus my perception of them.

Instance 1: an old boyfriend called out of the blue, and we talked for a while. It's been seventeen years (since prom!), and so there was some catching up to do. He asked me if I was married and if I had kids. I said yes to both, adding that I had "two little girls."

"Oh, how old are they?" he asked.

"Nine and seven," I answered, and then I cringed. That's not really so little anymore (and, boy, did I feel old telling the guy I went to prom with that I had a nine- and seven-year old!). When I hear or read "little girl" or "little boy," my mind automatically conjures up visions of toddlers, preschoolers, and maybe a kindergartner. But nine and seven? Nope. They don't really fit into that category.

I guess they do if you compare them against a teenager, but then I could be called a youngster next to an octogenarian.

So, the point is, they're not so little anymore.

Instance 2: my older daughter asked if she could have some iced tea. I had just made some, and the pitcher was full, so I automatically got up to get it for her. She looked at me strangely and said, "I can pour it, Mommy." And so she could. She didn't even spill a drop.

I was still in Mommy-of-very-young-children mode in which I have to do everything for them. Sure, I know that life and Mommyness is very different for me now that they're nine and seven compared to when they were, say, five and two and a half. They do their own laundry (when asked), they do a passable job cleaning up their rooms (when asked), they pick up their clothes in the morning and at night (most of the time without my asking), and make their beds (without my asking). They can even put a video in the VCR and DVDs in the DVD player (no small feat in our house where I have written instructions for babysitters and house guests on using our TV - really). Those things have become second nature to us all now. I don't think twice about them.

But pouring a full pitcher of iced tea? It really hadn't occurred to me that she could do it or that I should even let her try (and possibly spill). I was ready to get up and do it myself.

So my daughter can pour from a full pitcher of tea by herself. "So what?" you might ask.

It's just another one of those moments that all parents have when they're faced with the fact that their children are growing up. I'm already trying to prepare myself (and my husband who pales upon hearing certain biological facts about developing females) for that talk this summer. I'm sure after the discussion on the mysteries of womanhood it won't seem strange that she's pouring from a full pitcher. Instead, we'll be on full alert for the day that her menstrual cycle starts. Oh, help me then!

I'll be looking forward to the days when I thought she couldn't lift the pitcher of iced tea!

We need to celebrate each stage, while at the same time not holding back our children. I don't want my girls to grow up too fast, yet at the same time I don't want to restrain their growth. Maybe I actually have to do some growing and developing myself. Yikes!!! Perish the thought!

Seriously, that does make sense. Our family isn't a black hole and the children some sort of space anomaly. The family is constantly evolving, and life isn't static - quite the opposite. It's dynamic and ever-changing. So that means that I have to pull myself out of the static-ness of thinking that Kathryn and Anastasia are "little girls."

As in any relationship, if one component is growing and the other isn't, neither will fully realize the rich potential of the relationship and of life. So, it's this balancing act of not forcing my children to grow up too quickly, giving them space to become wonderful adult human beings, and understanding my own personal growth as a person who shares this journey of life with other beings.

And to think this all started with iced tea. Appropriate, I think - raising human beings can make you go from something everyday like iced tea to philosophizing on the cosmos. Little girls (and, really, they'll always be my little girls) will do that to you.