“Good Lord,” you are thinking right now…”Do I really have to endure another sappy freakin’ birthday tribute to one of Z’s kids?? How many kids can one woman POSSIBLY give birth to during ONE MONTH??” The answer, dear readers, is clear: As many as I want, and even one I didn’t know I wanted.
Here’s one about one that I knew I wanted. I was so excited about having a girl. Having never been a girl, I was a little nervous about the prospect of raising one, though. I was a tomboy from the word go. I never wore the first ribbon in my hair (EVER), I never liked to dress up, and besides the occasional kiss-and-chase game on the elementary school playground, I was never particularly boy-crazy. Once I went to ride my bike while dressed in my (white) easter dress, back in the days where rural Louisiana towns had ditches–sewerage ditches, that is–alongside the streets, and misjudged my turn and ended up covered in sewerage from head to toe. I then had to be stripped naked in my front yard and hosed down before I could go inside and gather what was left of my dignity. But enough about me…this is all about my newly 13 year old daughter, Tween C, who shall hereinafter always be referred to as “Teen C”:
I remember when you were born. Sort of. There’s so many of you now that the details get mixed up in my squirrely brain. I know that all of you weighed 6 pounds something or another ounces, so if that information and other such details are actually necessary at any given point I ask Zohrmom, who still has room in her brain for that stuff. But I definitely remember the feelings that I had 13 years ago today. I remember the anticipation of having my first daughter. It was strange and exciting. It was almost like having your first child, because I had no idea what to expect from you. I also didn’t understand how it was possible to love more than one child when it seemed like ALL of my love was being used up with that first kid. But it all became super clear to me the moment I laid eyes on you. A mother’s love is limitless. And in an instant, I loved you just as much as the boy that had already had 3 and a half years to grow on me.
You were a good baby, you were always laughing and smiling and happy. It’s really amazing to me now, looking back, how much you and Little A are alike, and yet so different from one another. You were outgoing and singing and dancing at home, but once we left the house, you clammed up. You stood behind my legs for the first 4 years of your life. You didn’t speak to strangers. Heck, you didn’t even speak to your grandparents until we were at their house for at least 20 or 30 minutes. When you were in pre-k, you started coming out of your shell. In the First Grade, I was asked to work with at home on not disturbing your classmates and keeping quiet. I always said that it was because you didn’t talk for so long, you had a lot of makeup work to do. Even though you were talkative and social now (in fact, I dubbed you my ‘little socialite’) you still had issues with nervousness. Do you remember when you were supposed to camp out with your girl scout troop, yet the closer we got the drop off point, the more your stomach hurt? When we arrived, you refused to get out of the car. As soon as I agreed and headed home, you were fine. I dropped you off at a party once when you were in the third grade. I no more left and got a call to come and get you, that your stomach was hurting. You got in the car, and as we drove away you vomited all over the back seat (and some of the front seat, for good measure). You and I worried that you’d never grow out of it. By accident, YaYa mentioned to you one day that you had anxiety. You became convinced that this was a medical condition that would surely result in death or worse. The idea of having “anxiety” made you even more anxious. Luckily, you grew out of this, too.
I’m so lucky to have a beautiful, intelligent daughter who’s also beautiful on the inside (except when you are slamming doors or rolling your eyes at me…yeah, you know what I’m talking about).
Here’s the thing, though. Would it kill you to leave my headband in my bathroom alone? And could you stop bringing food to your bedroom? Huh? Cuz that’s just gross. kthxbye
Okay, guys. We’re done until October. We will resume our regularly scheduled programming tomorrow. You’re welcome.