many of my readers who personally know me (yes I am a real person),
have asked why I don’t post much about my mini me, who is 14.
Because she has asked me not to do so, and more than once.
Fear that her friends will see her, or worse…they will see her mom.
So since her request, I haven’t.
But I am breaking the rule, just once.
we got in the car and both took a deep sigh.
who knew picking up a class schedule and getting it right for her first year in high school could be so stressful.
you could see the panic across her face as she sighed and said she wasn’t ready for this.
over the past few months of the summer, we have grown in a different way. It’s a love/nag each other to death relationship. But more so, as we have added fighting over sharing clothes, late night gossip, watching Friends and Gilmore Girls reruns, and the ups and downs and the sobs and heart aches of stinky boys.
I kept saying to myself that she is not old enough for this.
she’s only four years away from the age that I was when we got married
and five from when I had her.
I still see her as the quite four year old preschooler.
homeschool is always an option….
my heart has been beating insanely when I started to think of getting ready for this year.
which reminded me of my cardiologist appointment coming up.
and that I probably should lay off of the caffeine for a bit.
It occurred to me that not only was she nervous about this part of her life, I was the one that was not ready. She’s always been the child to quietly go and do as we have entered different phases of growing up, and this was one of the first times that she said she said she was scared. And starting over again from the bottom.
We cry over pre-k, kinder and first. And all of those moments when they are littles. But no one said you might just loose your marbles over high school.
It’s friggin high school, everyone goes, whats the big deal.
The big deal, it’s a big public school and for her it’s the unknown and starting over again.
It seems as though everything comes to a mad stop in the blur of rushing around and you realize you have four, fast years left with this little kid.
One school year left of taking her and picking her up daily before she is driving on her own.
A bit of time left where she doesn’t want an actual lunchbox, for fear of not being cool, but still wants you to make it for her.
Those few days of when she actually wants you to help with her makeup and values your opinions on clothes.
Proms, banquets, dance recitals, homecomings, pom, tennis matches, not planning on dressing like each other and more broken hearts will go by in a flash.
And here I am again, crying only to realize I have to go through it again, with two more kiddos.
deep sigh and hard eye rub.
In the times she drives me nuts and makes me insanely proud, the late nights of studying and practicing for pom tryouts till it is perfection, the worry of when she is away, the excitement of a great grade and making the team, to pulling her hair out of her face as she is balling…
In the times she drives me nuts and makes me insanely proud, the late nights of studying and practicing for pom tryouts till it is perfection, the worry of when she is away, the excitement of a great grade and making the team, to pulling her hair out of her face as she is balling…
She will survive and flourish, and so will I.