Oh good lord. What are we doing? Tomorrow we move house for the 4th time in less than 2 years… But this time we move a toddler, a nosey, climbing everything, oh look someone left the front door open, “I’m freeeee” kind of toddler, who will probably turn me completely grey before tomorrow is done, and we move a teenager. An awkward, budding teenager, at that “not a girl, not yet a woman” stage, conscious of her body, but still not quite capable of sitting appropriately in a skirt, or quite aware why those shorts are just too short.
I’ll be glad, when her room is set up. When we can send her to bed at 8pm (lights out at 8.30) so that hubby and I can have some quality time together in the evenings, but also so she can go and do whatever teenagers do in the privacy of her own room.
Cushion’s and stuff for her room
I’m excited, but anxious to see her blossom in to a confident young woman, worried that somehow we’ll screw it up, that we’ll be overprotective and embarrassing, or too “standoffish”and make her feel like we don’t care.
I worry about her bond with Sebastien, she’s amazing with him, but it worries me how good she is, I don’t want her to be a teenage mum (not because I have anything against teenage mum’s but because she has so much to offer the world, before she becomes a mum, she is a kind, nurturing and wonderful young woman, and although she would step in to motherhood like and estuary flows in to the sea. She just. Well. I just want to see her do well I want her to stretch her wings and see the world through those beautiful purple grey eyes of hers.
So as I sit here, surrounded by boxes, slightly (very!) stressed about tomorrow, I realise that tomorrow isn’t the stressful part, none of it is really stressful, but my gosh. Mike and I are now parents to a teen. We have the worlds biggest learning curve ahead of us, a path that we are so excited, yet so apprehensive to travel down.