My sweet toddler, who only a minute ago was going off to pre-school, is starting high school this week. I am terrified!
All these spinning emotions are rising to the surface and I woke today with butterflies in my gut.
I was in high school 42 year ago and I don’t have a clue where to begin with all the changes that have taken place.
It’s times like these that I wish my daughter had an older sibling, cousin, someone who could bridge the gap and be there to navigate this new terrain for the next four years.
The biggest obstacle came last week when the school assigned Colby her own laptop and Google drive account. What the heck is Google drive? I know I should learn to keep up with all the new technology, but where does one find the time? And, life is changing faster than I can learn.
Life is too busy and it’s only going to get worse. In order to maintain a conscious connection with my teenager, I must navigate the hidden passwords, codes and names of my daughter’s social media world. God forbid I forget to write down the actual sites!
I have become a stalker of her various modes of communication. Her cell phone and the constant texting have become my only link to really understanding her daily world. So sad to know that spying is a necessity for parenting today. I have become a hacker of my daughter’s phone, realizing that the world of “selfies” has made narcissism an accepted lifestyle choice. Who knows where those snap-chat photos are being seen?
Obsession with hair and makeup is a major focus for my daughter and circle of friends. I went to private school with a strict uniform code. Dressing was not on my radar since the school was primarily an “all girls” environment. Looking good meant trying to appearing preppy enough as I struggled with frizzy hair, big nose, braces and not belonging to the local yacht club. Had there been hair product in the late 60’s, I might have escaped the need for therapy.
As I cross into this new frontier of high school, my friends are discussing where they’re going for their winter retirement and planning their “air-stream” getaways. I want to disappear and run into the woods to try and touch something familiar. Am I getting old? Or, am I just finding the world is moving too quickly?
I see from my window, my neighbor walking her five-year-old to her first day of kindergarden. “Remember this moment,” I want to scream to her, “It is all going to go by oh, too fast.”
Colby is starting her journey to discover her autonomy and I have to accept that this transformation doesn’t come without freefalls. Mistakes have to be made in order to grow.
So, I’m the enemy for now. Lecturing, hovering, and asking too many questions is taboo. Her lack of language and despondent looks of boredom are just a phase. I know she needs me, trusting that I am here for her. I just have to trust her!
I must admit that I miss being the Queen of her Universe. My Velcro baby is all gone. My friends tell me they do come back. So, I will hold that thought as she leaves today for a new beginning.
Launching her forward and holding the future loosely, I will accept that living is constant change. It’s ok to be uncertain.
It’s all part of being a (midlife) MOM.