by EM RUSCIANO
Well, it’s happening. In the back of my mind I knew it was coming but had successfully blocked it out like the need for superannuation and the impending removal of my wisdom teeth.
I’ve lost my baby, my first born, my loving, helpful, smiley girl. Where has she gone because I bloody want her back. Seriously, I want to speak to the manager about this as what I purchased from the store ‘aint what it I got now.
She’s 11, so hormones have taken her hostage and she now shuts the door when she showers and stomps off over some pretty trivial stuff. There is plenty of info and support for when the baby arrives and even when they fly the nest, but what about when the baby orders you to walk behind her on the way home from school or when she pretends not to know you when you are loudly cheering for her during a cross country race…
She has stopped running everywhere, you know how kids do that? They run everywhere all the time, especially when they spot you after having been apart. My 5 year old still does the Dirty Dancing run and jump at the end of the school day when she sees me.
I’m lucky to get eye contact with Chell when I see her after school. What the hell am I to do? I am grieving for a child lost even though she is still here.
Don’t get me wrong, my eldest daughter is RAD. If I went to school with her I would totally want to be her friend. She is a gun athlete, pianist, student and she’s pretty with a bit of a punk skater thrown in. I watch her at school when I am up there on Prep duties with my youngest daughter (not in a weird, stalkery, overprotective way) and I am way proud of my kid.