Lately my thirteen year old daughter has been coming home from school almost in tears every other day. The reason is always the same; some boys on the street try to follow her home and whistle at her.
I know I shouldn't be laughing because it's kind of nice and sweet that she's not running into their arms yet. I just hold her and hug her and tell her that it's part of growing up, and it's only the beginning. Just last year she was complaining that all her friends had breasts and had started their periods. Now her breasts have just started showing, and the boys are noticing. I wish I could freeze her in this moment.