Is it Friday yet? No? Well it certainly feels it round my neck of the woods.
1st born has us in despair. We assumed or is it presumed (either way who cares…..they are both apparently the mother to all freak outs) that we would get at least 12 good years from her before the teenage angst set in. But alack and alas no! It seems 5 is the new 13 and 1st born is in the throes of her first crush!
Now this isn’t something that happened last week and has us in ‘oh dear god this is completely bizarre…..where is that chapter in the book quick?!’ territory. No, the dust has settled on this one and it has been going on for approximately four months now! And I, for one, am horrified. But I am better off than husband, who is just one teensy, tiny, step away from a full blown, deep breathing into a brown paper bag, panic attack.
Now don’t get me wrong……I’m not just freaking out because this is my just barely walking…out of nappies…(ok I exaggerate) junior infants, innocent daughter. I mean we all had crushes in the eighties….right? Ok some of us in the nineties too.
I remember sending valentines cards annually to my 1985 equivalent and I also remember (unbeknownst to me) his mum returning the gesture for many years. And it was of course, harmless! In fact maybe it was this adoration and endorsement that helped him on his way to 4 Olympic Games. Ok so….probably not – he did that without any help here, but at least I had an eye for talent even in my youth, eh? And again, I digress!
Thanks to Pooh Bear for another fabulous quote!
Cue me folding washing in my utility room. I spot the local pre-school calendar in 1st borns arms and she is doing something that looks suspiciously like SHE’S LICKING IT. I have not taken poetic licence here & exaggerated for a more exciting story. She actually was licking it.
And this worried me.
This is when I normally regress back into my own little head and give myself a talking to.
“Keep calm. It is ok. What would a child psychologist do in this situation?”
But the problem here is that I can imagine said psychologist (who incidentally is sometimes male and bears a striking resemblance to Dr Phil and on other occasions is a blonde female Annabel Karmel lookalike) saying or following a multitude of contradictory routes.
Throwing caution to the wind, on this particular occasion I went with Dr Phil’s imaginary twin and decided a casual, head on approach would be most suitable. Let’s call said child John, just for protection!! I’m not sure I could face his parents in the yard otherwise.
Me: “Um, ahem, what are you doing?* casual, nonchalant voice.
1st born: “I’m licking John’s face.”* equally casual & even more nonchalant voice in reply!
Me: “Why?”* nonchalant voice at this stage replaced by mild panic.
1st born: “Because I like the look of his face”* still utterly nonchalant, and dare I say proud, voice.
Enter 2nd born: “Mama, will you call the doctor?”* no sense of panic whatsoever evident here.
Me: “Why do you need the doctor?
Put down the calendar and stop licking it!
Why do you need the doctor?” * all sense of reason & control fast evapourating. Dr Phil’s twin fired on the spot.
1st born: “But I like licking John’s face. Why do I have to stop?”* panic creeping in here too.
2nd born: “I want the doctor because I think I am going to die” *utterly casual voice akin to that used when you are aware you are about to run out of milk & the inconvenience being paramount.
Me: *quick assessment of 2nd borns vitals – deem all ok. Heart rates slows a little
“It’s just not nice to lick the calendar.
You don’t need the doctor. You will be fine. Why do you need the doctor?”
*mental note to self – now is not the time to mention that you will be better before you are married. Erase all love and grown up related thoughts from your head in relation to the under 6’s in the house!
2nd born “I am just dying” *voice contains about as much urgency as I have rising from bed every 5am to do a soother/dodi search in 3rd borns cot.
Exit 2nd born stage left. Vital signs are appearing within normal range.
1st born is now smiling, in a disturbing fashion, at John’s photo. And I, for one, am in need of some Valium.
And so where to go from here? Do I need to be worried about Casanova in the school yard (albeit a very much unsuspecting, innocent Lothario)??? Is this the start of the long, complicated road to teenage angst and heartbreak city? Is my daughter so advanced that I need to question everything about how I raise her?
Or is it simply friendship that is manifesting itself through the copious amounts of Disney fed to our children today?
Who knows? But one thing is for sure, they don’t make it easy.
Then again……whoever said they would? So for now, I’m taking sound advice from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy;
“A cup of tea would restore my normality.”
More tea please.
Until the next time,