Writing her "I'm going to be the next Isobelle Carmody" novel

Writing her “I’m going to be the next Isobelle Carmody” novel

This school holidays saw my Beautiful Girl off on a holiday, all on her own-some.

Ten days away from us, visiting with the relatives up North – and I missed her more than I thought I would.

The dynamics always change when one of the kids is off on a sleep-over.  It’s usually a lot quieter and the remaining child is happy to do their own thing, with minimal interference from me.  This time round… it was too quiet.  The Little Man missed his sister (and openly admitted it!).  Apparently, there was no one to pester or to help with the washing up…

“And she’s not there when I go to sit on the end of her bed in the morning for our talk.”

This January (her birthday),  Husband and I realised that we don’t have her for that much longer. Another few years and she’ll be off in the world finding her own way.  And this trip has made her grow…

When she got back, we spent a few days in Lismore with Husband’s folks, and while we were out getting some groceries for dinner the conversation between her and I went something like this:

Her:  Mum, give me the shopping basket.
Me: I’m okay.  We need icecreams for dessert.
Her: (not moving) Basket, Mum.
Me: Since when did you get all grown up and bossy.
Her:  Since you let me go on holidays on my own.  And because you look like shit.
Me: I’m…
Her: You’re not fine. Your back is sore and you shouldn’t be carrying this heavy basket.  So hand it over Mum.
Me:  (handing the basket over speechless)
Her:  Now.  Icecream (leaning over to give me a kiss).

Growing up!

I’ve still got her for a few years, and while I have, I’m going to savour every single moment.

Laughter, tantrums, whispered secrets, tears, cheek.  All of it.

Because if when she moves out, I miss her as much as I did over these 10 days, I ain’t looking forward to it.

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