Sh!t I learned from my kids - The first time my daughter broke my heart....

     I knew for a while that things were bound to change soon enough.  My daughter is 10 going on 45, and has been fighting the system (read: me) since she was first able to talk.  Even thought she is opinionated, stubborn, and questions literally every single thing that comes out of my mouth, she is also very, very affectionate.  I soak up every single snuggle that I get.  I relish every kiss that she gives me, even in public still, even in front of her friends.  Last weekend, a first happened.  And it broke my damn heart.
    
     We had some errands to run.  Maddy needed some new running shoes for cross country, and to buy a birthday present for her bestie.  So we hit the mall, something we try to do as little as possible.  We (read : I) loathe the mall.   We hate the big chain stores.  We hate the crowds of people.  But we love the convenience when you have a small window of time, and multiple things to buy.  We had quite effortlessly, much to my surprise, found and agreed upon a good pair of running shoes.  The girl is getting so much smarter in her old age, and wasn't so worried about the aesthetics of the shoe, and was looking for something comfortable.  We were on the same page, and I was elated.  We paid for the shoes, and popped in a couple of stores on the walk from where we had bought the shoes, to where we were headed for the present.  It was so nice to get to just talk to her.  When you have four kids constantly clamouring for your attention, it is a welcome change to be able to devote it to just one person.  The most incredible conversations happen in instances just like this one.  We smelled tea, looked at face cream, and just delighted in the lack of siblings that we generally have to cater to on outings similar to this one.  We had just left one shop, headed to our final destination, clasping hands, the crooks of our elbows supporting our purchases in brightly coloured bags, when it happened...

     Maddy dropped my hand at lightening speed, took a step away from me, and waved to a friend.

     Heart broken.  Instantly.

     I knew that it would happen some day.  That she would go through a phase in her teens where she pushed away from me, just like generations of kids before her had done.  I knew that I had done the same thing to my mom once upon a time, but I just had no idea how horrible it would feel.

     I stopped in front of the store we were headed to, and turned to face her.  "Did you just let go of my hand because you saw your friend?"  She came back with a quick answer, but stumbled over her words just a little bit in the delivery.  "Oh, no, that isn't what I was doing.  I just, um, I wasn't sure what hand I wanted to wave to her with.  So I needed both of my hands."

     And that was that.  I smiled and said it was fine.  I laughed and told her that she was a horrible liar.  We finished our shopping, and headed back to the cave of chaos that we call a home.  I will never mention it again.  Because even thought it hurt, she didn't do anything wrong.  Kids grow up.  That is just a fact.  Parents grow up maybe a little slower than their kids do, holding onto the present, painfully aware of how fast years start to fly past you as an adult.  So when she is feeling comfortable to hold my hand again, she can.  When she is feeling to "big" to hold hands, that is okay too.  I know that one day, probably the day after she moves out of my house, she will want to be with her mommy again every chance she can.  Just like I did way back when.



Smiling through the chaos, sometimes with a tear in my eye,
Shannon