Have I implied, yet, that this was an emotional process for me? She's my youngest baby. The last baby... besides that imp of a cat we call Mister Foo. Apparently, when she hits that double digit, t-e-n, she will be a "tween." Good grief. Not only am I not emotionally stable enough to cope with that time is passing reality, I am not cognitively, nor culturally, receptive to the notion of "tween." Let's just say, I think children are worthy of a childhood, rich, challenging, and evenly paced, and I have no interest in nurturing or hastening the cultural phenomenon of "teens, rebels, angst, and the too old for this, too young for that void" that is thrust on our young people.
Was that a rant?
A little bit, maybe.
Have I implied, yet, that this was an emotional process for me?
1. Spaces to call our own.
2. Going out to dinner with friends... and air conditioning.
3. Cold showers, fans, ice cubes, and the fervent hope that this heat, too, shall pass.
4. Letting go, gracefully, and making way for new things.
5. Care packages from my mommy, because I love being her baby.
Mondays are so much easier to face when I think about the good things, and I love to hear what you are thinking about, too.