Conversations with my daughter
Small Person is, frankly, pretty horrible at the moment*.
She's on a two-week sticker chart project to earn a scooter. This is in no small part due the fact that we are entirely sick of having a thirteen-year old girl in a six-year old body mooching and stropping around the place. I despair. Where once were smiles and capitulation, now are only glares and huffs and withering, pitying looks. I am beginning to feel slightly marginalised. She won't even look at me in the playground now for fear of someone seeing us interact. I physically wrestled her into kissing me goodbye this morning, and was subjected to the unsettling first indignant cry of "Muuuuum!" even as she struggled from my grasp and legged it into class.
Has it come to this, so soon?
Mind you, the new, tweenage** Small Person is sometimes still unintentionally hilarious. I asked her who she had lunch with today. "Oh, Matthew", she said. Ah! said I, is he your boyfriend? "Not any more," she airily replied with all the insouciance of a boy-magnet at the very beginning of her third full week in her new school.
She doesn't get it from me. Honest.
* I still love her though so don't be telling the authorities on me or anything. You can't have her. She's MINE.
** I only put that in to make you feel sick. Could there be a word more effective at making children kick at the walls and vow to kill you in your sleep? Especially if you say it in front of their friends. While dancing in their bedrooms to Radio 1.
She's on a two-week sticker chart project to earn a scooter. This is in no small part due the fact that we are entirely sick of having a thirteen-year old girl in a six-year old body mooching and stropping around the place. I despair. Where once were smiles and capitulation, now are only glares and huffs and withering, pitying looks. I am beginning to feel slightly marginalised. She won't even look at me in the playground now for fear of someone seeing us interact. I physically wrestled her into kissing me goodbye this morning, and was subjected to the unsettling first indignant cry of "Muuuuum!" even as she struggled from my grasp and legged it into class.
Has it come to this, so soon?
Mind you, the new, tweenage** Small Person is sometimes still unintentionally hilarious. I asked her who she had lunch with today. "Oh, Matthew", she said. Ah! said I, is he your boyfriend? "Not any more," she airily replied with all the insouciance of a boy-magnet at the very beginning of her third full week in her new school.
She doesn't get it from me. Honest.
* I still love her though so don't be telling the authorities on me or anything. You can't have her. She's MINE.
** I only put that in to make you feel sick. Could there be a word more effective at making children kick at the walls and vow to kill you in your sleep? Especially if you say it in front of their friends. While dancing in their bedrooms to Radio 1.
posted by surly girl at 6:51 pm
7 Comments:
this is natures way of hardening you for the coming horror....
GIRL PUBERTY!
I am dreading it from my girl small person who is 5 years old (67 month year old to you Fifi!) With my son who is nearly 9 I got the playground brush off and the elongated Muuuuuuuuuuuum whenever I kissed him goodbye, touched his hair, wiped his face etc a couple of years ago but he seems to have got over it now. (for a while) He hasn't realised yet that I'm going to have to follow him to "big school" and hide in bushes spying on him in a couple of years. Think he might have some issues with that..........
Ah, kids grow up so fast, don't they?
So sad... and already on to her second boyfriend.
Everything happens much quicker than when i was a kid.
Claire - I think you may find that we're well beyond second boyfriend with Small Person.
Surly will correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe there's at least one ex-husband out there as well. She will end up being MD of some major corporation when she leaves school, such is her ability to wrap males around her little finger.
I can only watch and learn.
Whew! I thought this was an American thing - glad to see it's a trans-atlantic occurrence as well. My 5 year old is going on 15. I'm sure the next phone call I get is going to be that she's cutting class to smoke behind the bicycle shed...
"Not anymore" classic!
Reeeeally... well then.
I have no advice as Small Person is clearly more advanced than I.
Bowing out and seriously never having children now. They're too smart.
Tweenagers are so damn cute, even when they're mad as tits. I remember thinking that I owned the world when I was eight. I took everything so seriously! Does she have a mobile phone yet?
Thanks for your comments, by the way.
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