“I just want
to squeeze you back into a baby again,” ~ me
“That might
sound a little terrifying,” ~ my daughter
My daughter
turned 16 two weeks ago. Not to sound selfish or anything, but … if that’s not
a measure of how old I am getting … I don’t know what is …
Anyway, that’s
a milestone age, isn’t it - 16? What was it Britney said … “Not a girl, but not
yet a woman?” The only thing she’s old enough to do now is get a driver’s
permit and a job.
Yes, I
quoted Britney, don’t judge me.
I swear to
you, she was just a baby 16 years ago. Now she’s close to graduating high school
and being out on her own …
I need a
rewind button.
Not that I
didn’t smother the sh** out of my kid when she was little, but I think I have
more smothering left in me. She used to threaten to never leave home and I’d
pretend I wanted her to leave. There is so much more time I need to
hang out with her and even though she reassures me that nothing is changing, I
know it is.
And I’m not
ready for that business yet.
Yes, I’m
snot-crying my eyes out like a teenager who just got dumped for the first time
by a boyfriend who didn’t actually know he was my boyfriend so he went and got
a real girlfriend (thanks, Gerard Butler). My heart literally feels like it is breaking.
When my
daughter was younger (read, a toddler), I’d clean her room and find her tiny
socks everywhere and smile at the thought of her little feet in them. Those little
feet would fit in the palm of my hand perfectly and I’d rub them and she’d
smile and giggle.
Now her
socks stink, her feet are bigger than mine and cold as f*** at night and I’m
not touching them. But I love her.
There’s no
cuddling with her in my lap anymore, either. I tried it once and after fighting
with knees and elbows on a couch that won’t really accommodate two adult-sized
human beings, we settled on opposite ends with her feet propped up on my legs.
Her stinky, cold feet wiggling near my nose holes are not cute or cuddly.
I should
have bound those bitches like the Japanese do – then she’d have cute feet
forever. Kidding. They’d be deformed. Have you ever seen pictures of when they
take the bindings off? It’s not cute. I digress.
When I look
at my daughter, as proud as I am of how she’s turning out, I realize I’m not
ready for her to be grown up. No one prepares you for when your kids leave. No
one teaches you how to deal with the feeling of wanting to squeeze your kid
back into the tiny human who will always need you the most when you have to go
potty, gives you sloppy, snotty kisses when you least expect them and always
when you’re on the way out the door for something that requires you to not have
dried boogers on your face, and who looks at you like you’re the superhero of their
world.
Where was
the manual on that?
I’m starting
feel like I imagine Doctor Who does every time he loses a companion - lost. My
daughter is more than just my kid; she’s my other half. She’s my movie buddy,
fashion consultant, food taster, cheerleader, creative genius, inspiration, and
travel companion (but not in a police box, just a Jetta and relegated to this
time and planet).
As parents, we start teaching our kids to be
independent as soon as they are born. Don’t hold them so much, let them cry it
out and teach them to entertain themselves. And we’re so ready for them to do
everything early so we can brag about how advanced they are in comparison to
someone else’s kids or how they measure up on some growth scale we saw at the
pediatrician’s office.
We’re so
ready for our kids to grow up so we have more independence and freedom.
I admit I
was one of those parents who babied their baby. I still do. But she’s still
growing up and becoming her own person and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
I mean, there’s a certain amount of pride in raising a child from an infant to
an adult that can productively and successfully function independently. My
kid’s smart, beautiful, grounded and is tall enough to shop in the adult section
in the department store for pants – which is all a short mom could really ask
for ... But it’s all happening so fast.
Is this how
my parents felt about my brothers and me finally leaving home … ?
Nah, I think
they were pretty stoked. I mean, my dad bought a Harley, set up a
Facebook page
and started Tweeting their adventures in ‘almost retirement.’ And they left the
country. Not exactly the actions of heartbroken parents. Maybe it’s because
there were three of us. But, again, I digress.
Truth is I’m
panicking. These last 16 years went by in what seems like moments– the next two
years will seem like the blink of an eye. It makes me afraid to close my eyes.
My daughter turned 16 two weeks ago. We’re closer than ever, but she’s becoming her own person, independent from me.
She's no
longer threatening to live at home forever. And I’m no longer pretending I
don’t want her to.
