Sunday, February 3, 2013
As my daughter left for a movie date with a friend who was wearing more makeup than I did last night on my "big night out", I realized I am a lucky, lucky woman. I don't remember most of my childhood for one reason or another, but I know it wasn't "a happy one" for the most part, and 7th grade especially conjures up all kinds of bad snippets of memory. My girl, on the other hand, has been having a great 7th grade. She brought home her 2nd near perfect report card. She has many friends, often spending no time at home on weekends. I guess I am lucky she is at my house mostly during the week when there is homework to be done and Dance Moms and Switched at Birth to be watched. We have funny conversations sometimes when she is taking a bath ... they are the best. I learn so much about her then. All that said, I know there will be a moment in the not-too-distant future that she can't or won't talk to me and I will want to metaphorically throttle her. It's the nature of mothers and daughters and I don't imagine that I am so special that I will not be tortured by her at some point. I tortured my mother and my daughter will torture me, but then I hope, like I did, later on, when she's old enough, she'll realize how much I love her, how much I respect her, and how proud I am to be her mom.