So its happening lady. Its fast approaching. Its imminent. You will very soon be at big school. You’re growing up.
It only seems like five minutes ago that you came into the world. I can remember it like it was yesterday, the pain (oh god the pain) and then the overwhelming feeling of joy when you were handed to me all slimy and squishy. You seemed so delicate, I was terrified I would break you, I didn’t have a clue. I never realised how overwhelming becoming a mum would be or how intense keeping you safe would feel.Very soon you will be setting off on a journey which will take you off into the big wide world (possibly not Europe as we may be told to knob off, will explain that one to you one day – but there’s more world outside Europe) and I will miss these days where I could keep you here with me all safe and sound.
I can’t believe how quickly the time has passed. I want it all to slow down. The time has flown by and its so unfair (cue small grown up strop, as you know I have them sometimes). I wish we could have had more time together on our own as you were so young when you’re brothers came into the world. I don’t feel like we have had much ‘girlie time’ together, to go out and do stuff like eat cake and shop, because life has been so hectic with the boys coming along so quickly (sorry about that, but I blame my ovaries which suddenly and unexpectedly decided to start ovulating more frequently than once a year). The house became so crowded but you have handled it all so well; I am so proud of you. There has obviously been some added sass along the way and a pinch of regression but, hey-ho, it was to be expected (kind of like how your mum regresses to her teenage self when we’re on holiday and gets a bit drunk in the evening – next time we will not drive through Magaluf). Now that you are starting school I feel that I have missed so many opportunities for just ‘us’ time.
I expected to feel relieved about now, which fills me with guilt. You starting school meant that I would only have your brothers to contend with at home. I was honestly looking forward to it as the three of you are a force to be reckoned with and some days you wear me out. I was thinking that a ‘divide and conquer’ tactic would make life easier. The less time you were all together meant less chance of you all ganging up on me – it was my time to outflank you all. There’d be one less of you to entertain, one less squabble to contend with and with your growing independence, life for me would become a little easier. Now THAT time is nearly here I must say it is completely bloody terrifying and utterly devastating. I feel like part of me is being ripped away. I imagine you’re older self-will roll your eyes and call me melodramatic but that’s how it feels. As the years go by, your dependence upon me will disintegrate until you are a woman in your own rights and as much as I’d love you to always be our little girl there’s nothing I can do to change that.
You can’t slow the time down, you can’t look back, you have to move forward to the next amazing phase.
As I wandered around your new school I realised that there’s so much to come your way, so many things to experience and so many things to learn. So much fun to be had, like getting as many kids in the skipping rope on the playground, rolling your knee-high socks down to a sausage around your ankles, hours of hand clapping games, making houses out of the grass cuttings on the playing field or whatever kind of games the kids are all playing these days (bit of a ‘when I was tut lass’ moment there, maybe its different now, but I’m sure it will be ace). It will be an incredible journey and most likely a bit rubbish at times too, (hormones, peer pressure and boys – we’ll go into that another time) but there’s so much that it can offer you, much more than I can.
As much as I want you to stay at home with me, I’m here to guide you through it (possibly ‘drag’ you through it at times as well). I wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I wasn’t working to get you out there out there, out there into the world. Sometimes that world can be a bit shit at times and you’ll wish you could be back in the place you called home where everything was safe and you could cry on my shoulder until you fell asleep, like I sometimes want to do with your Nannie. That’s ok because I am your mum and that place will always be here, with the added bonus of a bit of Haagen Dazs and Sleepless In Seattle – you will bloody love that film one day I guarantee, it’s a guaranteed cure for any of life’s problems.
So here it starts, here’s where the journey begins. A journey to a place you will no longer need me; you’ll be ‘out there’ in the world. It will be full of amazing things (although some quite terrifying things, I can feel early onset panic creeping in already, I promise I won’t dump my fears onto you) so much more than this little village that you call home can offer. It will always be your home and your refuge. A place you can run back to when living in another place doesn’t quite work out or a boy breaks your heart (I would like to issue a little warning to the ‘bastard’ that attempts to treat you any less than the princess that you are).
We’re on this journey together and we’ll have some bloody good fun along the way. I imagine it will come with a few ‘I told you so’s’, because I am a parent and that’s just what we do (and by the way while you’re in our house it’s
our my rules – yes I will turn into my parents, it’s going to happen). You’ll roll her eyes when I put my ‘olden’ music on and the rules will seem ‘so unfair’. But whatever happens along the way, I can promise a safe haven, support and encouragement for whatever you feel is your path in life (for the record, pole dancing and anything to do with motorbikes will NOT be encouraged/permitted).
I’ll be with you every step of the way.
So go forth little lady and knock ‘em dead.
Or not, whatever you want to do, just don’t lose yourself along the way.
Keep it real girlie.