She loves me
She loves me not
She really loves me
She really wishes I would move to another country, so she wouldn’t have to endure my constant nagging about picking up her toys… or they all go to charity. OH.YES.THEY.WILL.
She is my five going on 15-year-old daughter.
My precious piece of sunshine, who as a baby would squish her marshmallow cheek against my chest, as we swayed to the angelic sounds of Libera singing a haunting rendition of “Sanctus.” (I challenge you to listen to their version without tearing up.)
Now she prefers the not so heavenly strains of Samsung’s Juke commercial, to which she busts a move like the kids from “Jersey Shore.”
God help me.
“Mommy, I love you forever. You’re my best friend.”
As a four-year-old my daughter would coo those words in my ear on a nightly basis as I carried her into bed.
Last week the conversation went more like this:
Me: “Time for bed.”
Her: (Rolls eyes) “This is the worst night EVER!”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Her: “I was saying it to myself.”
Me: “Then say it inside your head.”
Her: “NOBODY LOVES ME!!!!”
Me: “Stop yelling.”
Her: (Arms folded, eyes glaring) “Well, if you weren’t so mean to me, then I wouldn’t get mad.”
Sure, attack the people who love you the most.
No, really, I can handle my five-year-old exhibiting co-dependent behavior as a way to deal with her fatigue and frustration.
It’s my inability to freeze time that I struggle with.
My baby is no longer a baby. These days the only thing that moves faster than my daughter’s mouth is… time. Since having a child, it seems to tick by at mind-boggling speed.
Her life didn’t exist five years ago. Now she’s changing so rapidly that I find myself unable to keep up.
There are many days when my daughter is just not that into me, but thankfully, there are still a few fleeting moments when I am not public enemy no.1, like the other day when we were compiling a guest list for her upcoming birthday:
Me: “Who do you want at your party?”
Her: “Carrie! Carrie has to come because she’s my BEST friend!”
Me: (Smiling) “Remember when you used to tell me I was your best friend?”
Her: (Places her hand on my arm) “Mommy, Carrie is my best friend in real life, but you’re my best friend in my heart.”