DD turned 15 today. Instead of jumping for joy and celebrating this very cool birthday I’ve been sad. Depressed. Down. All of the above. I just can’t believe that my baby girl is growing up. And worse, I can’t believe how much it hurts to realize I only have three more years to really spend with her, if that because she’s going to get to a point where she’d rather spend time with friends than me. I’m lucky she’s not there yet.
My friends warned me this day would come, but I didn’t believe them. Even though I cry at sappy commercials, I thought I would skip the whole “my baby’s not a baby any more” stage.
But I didn’t.
I’m happy for her. It’s cool to see her finding her own sense of fashion. It’s fun to watch her discovering who she is and what she stands for. It’s amazing to hear her speak and read her writing and think, whoa! She wrote that!
But it’s still sad. And that’s okay too, I hope.
I don’t want to be one of those kamakazi moms who takes over their kids life or tries to live through them. I work hard to make her take care of school on her own even though we’re in the same building.
I don’t think I am. I hope not.
I know I’m a competitive person. Actually I’m ridiculously competitive for someone who can’t play a single sport and never, ever could. I want to win. I love to win. Winning is the best feeling in the world.
So when my UIL team started today by getting swept by our cross-town rival (We HATE them!!!!) in newswriting, an even we always do well in, I almost died. I tried not to let the kids see how upset I was. But I don’t think I quite managed it. Especially not when I glared at the points board like it had caused the sweep.
But then the next three journalism events took place and my kids rocked! We won the team points and the absolute best: my baby girl placed fourth in headlines. She’s the alternate to Regions and this was her FIRST time competing at district. She did so great and she was so happy and when she got her ribbon she started to go to her friends but instead she ran to me and gave me a huge bear hug and it was the BEST moment of my entire teaching career!
I’m one proud teacher and one proud mom! I hope I can effectively capture this feeling so I can use it in my writing.
I saw a quote the other day that made me stop and think. It said we have the same 24 hours as Helen Keller, Thomas Jefferson, Thomas Edison, Benjamin Franklin and a number of other famous people.
For a few minutes I was blown away. WOW! These people, some with huge deficiencies, found a way to change the world! And here I am complaining about a tough year. Whoa.
Then I saw a response that made me laugh.
A woman wrote: Isn’t it interesting that NONE of the people on the list are mothers?!
Motherhood does add an interesting dynamic to the world of a will-be-published-one-day-but-currently- multi-rejected romance writer 🙂 My daughter’s practically grown up watching me write. She knows when the big floppy Tyvek envelopes come in from NYC that Mom might need a hug, some chocolate and a few minutes alone. A teenager, she still pats me on the back when the rejections come in and reminds me I have “that new story I’m working on.” She always talks about WHEN I get published. She’s even learned when she’s angry she can target my writing and get a rise out of me.
That quote was right. We do all have the same amount of time. And once it’s gone, it can’t come back. It’s something I need to think about on a regular basis.
Just like I think about a new study that showed 1 in 3 high school students think the First Amendment gives too many freedoms, YIKES! Zero tolerance has helped us raise a group of children who have no problem being dictated to. UGH!
It’s a good thing I’ve got twenty years left to teach kids how important those rights are.
Between that, motherhood, being a wife and writing, my life is pretty much full. I’m sure I’ll still wish for a 30-hour day every once in a while, but for now, I’ll have to make the most out of the 24 hours I’ve been given.
DD was born to the wrong mother. I swear! I am the most anti-artistic person I know when it comes to decorating. Most people have pictures on their walls, cute furniture settings, themes running from one area to another.
Not me. I painted last year. That was a first.
DD’s been talking about doing a Paris theme in her room. I figure whatever. I mean her room is a nuclear waste zone usually, so it’s no big.
But somehow DD underwent a pod person transformation. Over the weekend she totally revamped her room. Cleaned stuff up and transformed it into…you guessed it, a Paris/Asian theme. She had some Japanese silk hangings from a friend, so she used those and a fan as accents AND she did some funky canopy hanging out of plain sheets, a curtain hanger and thumb tacks. And she hung a funky green jacket and a little black dress on her wall over her curtains. It looks like a fashion studio. Sometimes I stand in awe.
Half her room still looks like nuclear waste land. She says that’s changing today. I guess we’ll see.
Posted in Family
Tagged DD, motherhood