are u there god?

i am sitting on a friend's couch, giggling like a girl. i am telling a story about how "chick shit" has ruined a lot of my so-called friendships. we both agree at the hassle of crap and drama that women force upon each other is the reason women can be so destructive. so we are in the midst of discussing "clitty litter" when my friend says to me:

"you talk just like a judy blume book!"

i think this fits me perfectly. i am so caught in a time when i was not just a girl, but some kind of odd hybrid of girl/boy. i spent my time in jeans, with holes in the knees, catching fireflies in empty miracle whip jars, boasting about my collection of toads from the cemetary, and riding my bike to the park that had the really big swings. the kind that go so high in the air you feel like you are taking flight. the trick was to tip back in your swing and let your hair drag in the dirt. the girl who could make the biggest dust cloud with her hair was dirt queen for the entire summer. i miss the life of scabbed knees and boys who wished they could pitch a baseball like i could. push-ups were 25 cents and you could ride your bike with the banana seat around your neighborhood without fear. i feel comforted when i think of those long summer evenings listening to the rat-tat-tat of cards in my bike spokes as i rode home before the street lights came on. it was a time when a girl knows she is a girl, and not a boy, but still dreads that time when she will have to let go of some of the boy-ness in her personality. it is that time right before the division of the sexes takes place. i really believe my best years were the summers between 8 and 13. things were easier, messier, and more fun.

the best part is that my friend and i both have girls and will get to experience that time all over again thru our girls. i don't mean that we are going to live thru our girls. we understand that we had our moment, but we look forward to the time where we can be silent observers. i see us pretending to make dinner in the kitchen, all the while we are eavesdropping on the girls in the yard comparing the size of their scabs and boasting about how high they can swing. we both realize how special this time will be for our girls..and how quickly it will pass.