When Did It Happen?

Yesterday in the car I realized that I had missed an important moment in my eldest child’s life. The moment when she stopped being a little kid. How did I miss it?

We were taking her to dance class and singing our favorite silly songs at full volume when I looked to my right and saw her staring out the window. She had that definite “I love my mom, but she’s a dork” look on her face. When did she get too big to make disgusting frog noises with the rest of us?

I bought her her first heels this summer, but she was still a kid. I bought her first bra, but she was still a kid. Then one day she woke up, and wasn’t little any more.

She’s still not a grown-up by a long shot, but she will never be my little girl again. She is out-growing Barbies, and dress-up, and doll houses. I remember going through those stages and losing interest in childhood things. Then I decided my mom was a drag and a pain and I walked away from our close parent-child bond. We reformed that bond when I was in my twenties, like most families do, but while it was normal for me it must have been gut-wrenching for my mother.

I have a special bond with this child. She is the one who made me a mom and was the reason for my own transition into adulthood. There are moments when we laugh and for a glimmer of a moment I can be 10 again. I’m still her mom, but I can remember in her laughter my own giddy childhood.

She stopped singing along. It may seem trivial to most, but it was monumental to me. It marked a place in time where she began to untie those apron strings. We will have her at home for many more years, but our relationship is changing. Please God, may I have the strength to see her through it and to endure these many, mini-heartbreaking moments along the way.