Ugh. Ok, guys, it finally happened to me. Not finally – no it already happened to me. Like, I cannot even believe it. She is only 7 (ok, almost 8), but still. It’s too soon. Far too soon.
This week, my sweet little girl said that I was…that I was…that I was…
Excuse me, what? You mean, me? The woman who carried you in my womb for 9 freaking months and then labored for hours just to bring you into the world. The woman who spent several sleepless nights staring at your chest to make sure you were breathing.
Me? The woman who you have puked, pooped, and snotted on and I still loved every second of rocking you and soothing you. The woman who changed all the diapers, handled all the tantrums, and finally taught you to wipe your own behind.
It wasn’t long ago that I did every goofy thing imaginable just to make you crack a smile. Oh, and by the way, you thought I was hilarious. I have been your first step balancer, your boo-boo kisser, your middle-of-the-night comfort cuddler, your superwoman bathtub exit flyer, your “you-can-do-it” encourager, your ABC teacher, your bike riding buddy, your hugging, kissing, holding, caring, loving mother.
And now, I am embarrassing?!?!
Whew, child, not going to lie, those words may have broken this Mama’s heart just a bit. Not the whole part about being embarrassing – look, I have met myself – I know I can nail that quality at any given time. Ha!
No, it’s more the part that you recognized that I am embarrassing. Which can only mean one thing: My little girl is growing up on me.
Let me give you some context around how this came about. Ever so sweetly, Maylie was telling me about her day and how she met a new friend.
“Yeah, so I told her about how you like to turn the music up really loud and we dance and sing in the living room together.”
“Oh, really? And how we love to do that and have so much fun?”
“Um, well… actually, how embarrassing it is because you always have all the blinds open and the music so loud and…yeah,” she trailed off, kind of giggling.
Uh, what? This child and I have been belting out our favorite tunes and twirling around the house for years! It has been “our thing!” Whether it has been to jams to get us motivated for cleaning with outbreaks of singing solos or dancing divas, or just no reason at all nighttime dance parties, this is what we do!
And now, it’s embarrassing?!?!
Eh, I feel like I should probably mention that I for real cannot carry a tune and let’s just say I won’t be making it on any dance reality TV shows anytime in the near future. But still, she has always been my biggest fan! I felt like a superstar in her presence! So much for that anymore.
Not really, ha! Who am I kidding? Sweet child of mine, although I am not ready for you to think I am embarrassing, I sure do feel like it is a parent’s right and privilege to be embarrassing to their darling babies.
So, you better believe that this weekend when it is gorgeous out, I will not only be opening up those blinds, but also the windows. And I will set that music to the highest level and bring my loudest vocals and most out-of-sync dance moves that I can drum up. We are going to slow dance, and fast dance, and crazy dance while we shout out all the wrong words because half the time I don’t even know the lyrics and sing whatever I want to anyway.
Embarrassing? Girl, you haven’t seen a thing yet. I can send you back to school to tell your friend all kinds of embarrassing mom stories. Oh, and believe that I will.
In fact, maybe this isn’t so bad – my daughter thinking I am embarrassing and all. While I hate that it means she is getting older, I actually may have just hit the sweet spot of parenting – my niche and go-to.
Embarrassing. I have been proficient in that long before you were even born, kid. And I am not going to lie, I am kind of excited to let loose and bring my A-game.
Baby girl, get ready, this next season is going to be so much fun (at least for me). It’s like you just totally presented a challenge to me. And I, for one, can never pass on a challenge nor can I half-way do anything.
So I am going to bring it. And you better believe that I can totally master embarrassing.
Sarah (Pitson) Shrader was born and raised in Lima. She is a Lima Central Catholic and Tiffin University graduate. Sarah is a full-time working mama who enjoys writing about her somewhat crazy, always adventurous life as a mother. She lives in Bath Township with her husband, Paul, and their daughters, her writing inspirations, Maylie and Reagan.