It feels like that moment in the movie "Father of the Bride" (the one with Steve Martin, not Spencer Tracy) when the dad tells his newly engaged daughter that it's chilly out and she should take a jacket. She tells him several times that she doesn't need one and resists his warnings, but as soon as lover-boy says she might need one, the daughter runs to get it. I've spent the past 24 years trying to be bubble wrap around my daughter C and to now trust the job to someone else, no matter how nice he is and how capable he is of doing the job, feels like someone is using an icepick to pop my bubbles. Where was he when I was giving her oatmeal bathes to ease the itching of chicken pox or wiping her tears because someone at school was mean to her or showing her that monsters don't appear in her closet the minute the lights go out at night? Yeah, yeah, so he was only a little kid himself at that time, but is that really a valid excuse?
You might think I'm being unfair, but you have to understand that my daughters, along with my husband, are my whole life. I have lots of really great, supportive, funny friends, but my husband and my daughters are my BEST friends. My girls are now 26, almost 24. 22. and 17, and I know you'll find this hard to believe, but they never gave me one minute of trouble. Nobody ever stayed out past curfew, none of them ever screamed that they hated me before slamming their bedroom door, I never got a visit from the local police, they weren't bullies or bullied, their teachers raved about them, and they all chose friends who were a joy to have in my home. There are no tattoos, no piercings other than the ones I took them to have done in their ears, I didn't have to search their rooms or spy on their emails---they skipped the teenage rebellion stage completely and became smart, funny, caring individuals. Oh, I don't want you to think they are Stepford children or anything. They have their moments when they make my blood pressure sky-rocket and they sometimes gang up on poor old mom, but they are still my best friends.
So watching C make a new life with E is not only going to involve the feelings a mom feels when letting go of a daughter, but will also be like when your best friend gets a new boyfriend and no longer has as much time for you, can't do your usual girls night out activities because HE has other plans for them, forgets to tell you all the news in her life because she's busy telling HIM, no longer asks your opinion on things because HE'S already told her what HE thinks she should do, and when she has a problem or something exciting to share, your number is not the one she dials first. (I've been watching "My Best Friend's Wedding" but I think Julia Roberts went about breaking up THAT wedding in a totally amateurish way. I'll be much more efficient.)
C was the funniest little kid and she's become a truly amazing adult with a laugh that starts in her belly and then kinda explodes out of her mouth. She was born pretty much bald, then had a few curly strands of blonde hair which fell out (as most baby hair does) and the new hair grew in sticking straight up off her head, like a wheat field with one straggly strand hanging down like a tail. People actually stopped me to ask if I had cut it like that (Seriously? Who would do that to an innocent child?). But once it got past that stage, it became the most precious ringlets I'd ever seen. C started out as a colicky child, but after four months, it was like a light switch flipped and she became the most patient, even-tempered of my kids, the peacemaker--that is until you put the straw on that turns out to be the last straw for C and then the sheer magnitude of her anger is terrifying. (Are you listening, Mr. Husband-to-be?). C is gifted and so creative and hilariously funny and extraordinarily kind and she lights up every room she enters. Who wouldn't miss a best friend like that?
The wedding is going forward, so I'll have to suck it up and be mature about the whole thing (not something I'm good at). I've always put my girls first and I'll do it again. I want C to be happy, even if it makes me miserable, and to be honest, E makes her happier than I've ever seen her (which makes me like him and hate him at the same time--still working on that being mature thingy). I'll do the wedding planning, which will involve getting to spend time with C, and help her have the wedding day of her dreams. But at the end of the day, I'll be sitting in my office watching home movies of C when she was little and still all mine and I'll be eating chocolate. Lots of chocolate.
On the bright side, between caterers and florists and photographers and guests and a new set of in-laws (who so far have been lovely), I'm sure I'll have plenty of new "Am I crazy or is it them?" moments to share.
Clicked on you from Verla's and I have to tell you how much I love this post. My three girls are only 2, 4, and 6, and this made me cry! Whenever I tell people I have three girls they cringe and tell me how horrible the teenage years are going to be. It is nice to read something that gives me a little hope that it doesn't have to be that way. And as someone who is in the thick of those tear-wiping, monster-hunting moments, I am grateful for the reminder to enjoy those too. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Amy. Nice to see one of my friends from Verla's! People always look at my family and say, "What, no boys?" and I tell them I had boys but I threw them back like fish that are too small to keep. The teenage years are challenging, but it's all about the friends. If your girls make good friends who are respectful and responsible, half the battle is won. And yes, I hope you cherish every minute of monster-hunting and tear-wiping, although I hope there won't be too much of either of those activities. I wish I had thought to keep a notebook of all the funny things the girls said when they were little. It was such a busy time that I barely had time to breathe, but it would be wonderful to be able to go back and read through a journal of their adorable and hilarious comments.
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