Tuesday, July 20, 2010


I felt the first thread pop today: the inevitable, slow undoing of the daughter-mother seam. Suddenly Roo is all eye-rolls and annoyance at me, while she's sweetness and light to the rest of the world. She didn't step far, but she placed a grain of independence to tip the scale against what we've shared for the last (almost) eight years. It stung.

As much as I want her to plant her feet confident and fearless in the world, I miss my baby Roo. I wish I could call her infant body back for one quiet night of swaying blissfully in the rocking chair. I like this new person who lives with me, I'm proud of her beyond words, but I didn't get long enough with that creased-leg ball of joy.

Mom, I don't want to talk to you right now, okay? portents awkward, forced conversations to come. The irascible what? grunted over her shoulder at my call forebodes greater teenage annoyance. It's coming, I accept it. But parenting is so complicated.

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