My name is Mary. Though many of you may not know me now, I was once one of the most active, involved, and prolific contributors to ApricotPie, and many of you who have been here for a long while no doubt remember me.
I joined ApricotPie in 2008. Shortly after joining, I began posting a chapters of a serial historical fiction called The Shadowfields. It was written offhandedly, perhaps even flippantly, purely for the fun of writing it, while my focus and concentration were dedicated to my more serious current project at the time.

I: Falling
I'm falling hard
I'm falling fast
in too deep
I hope it lasts
these thoughts of you
won't let me be
I wonder if
you think of me?
I'll find a way
to where you are
you know the way
into my heart
only time will tell
I guess
but until then
I'll be a mess

I haven't yet really read in depth all of the articles that you girls have been writing about growing older/growing up, but since the similar idea has been on my mind, I decided to write one too. Apparently mine is a lot longer, and what I thought would just be a one page musing, became a four page essay. I hope that you'll enjoy these gatherings of my stories and thoughts about growing up. I hope one of the young men on here will write one too, because so far, it seems like just "us girls" type of thing. :)

May God bless you.
_____________

Yes, the dreaded hormones. Younger siblings tease you about them, older people groan about them, and we do some pretty stupid things because of them.

Hormones are part of why you feel you want to kick the dog as soon as you wake up, or adding ‘damn’ to every other sentence.

Hormones are also part of why you feel blissfully happy for no particular reason, treating everyone with grace and happiness. And everyone’s thinking, “What's happened to them?”

Then the next day you’re back to “I hate life.”

Has anyone ever felt like that? I certainly have.

Before me I see 15 girls, each one a little taller than the one to her right. Each a year older than the one before. Golden hair, they all have, except for the youngest. They are looking around, chatting with their neighbor. They don’t know that I am there I walk to the start of the line. Before me is a baby. She has dark hair covering her head. Her face is rosy and her fists are clenched. Her left ear is smaller than the right. I bend down and take her in my arms. “Sleep well, little one,for you will see amazing things one day.” I gently set her down and move up the line.

(A bit disorganized, but there's no way I could straighten out this train of though tonight.)

_____________

A New Chapter of Life

Thank you for your kindness

Thank you for your compassion

Thank you for your hugs when I needed one

Thank you for your trust in me

Thank you for scolding me

Thank you for comending me

Thank you for your good

Thank you for your ugly

Thank you for your cheer

Thank you for believing in me

most of all

Thanks for the lessons

When I grow up

I want to be just like you

But I am grown

But still feel like I haven't grown up yet

No time for tea and sympathy
heading straight for the brink of sixteen
it’s been over a year, suddenly realizing,
since playing at some imagining.

How long it’s been since sticks and arrows
how long since paper planes
how long since flags and carboard houses
how long since spying games.

No time for books arranged in series, for
each year in between, growing up more
suddenly standing at the library door
finding the characters two years younger or more.