Nine, and embarrassed
My love turned nine today. Nine! Where has the time gone? Next thing we know, Olivia will be 19.
I've read the tween years are considered eight to 12. Yes, some changes have been happening at the end of eight, including attitude shifts!
A few months before she approached her birthday, she started telling me she was EMBARRASSED when I did certain things: so far, it's been when I was dancing and singing, when we were ALONE with each other in our own house. Really???
Oh, and the times I picked her up at school and I had the nerve to say hello back to her male classmates who said hi to me FIRST.
"Hi, Olivia's mom! I saw you on TV today!" the boys said to me.
She darted out of the room and into the parking lot to wait by the car. "Mom! Don't talk to them! It's so embarrassing!"
"But they said hi to me first. Isn't it rude to just ignore them?" I puzzled.
"Don't! Just don't!" she chided. I'm not going to listen to rudeness, but I'm just... befuddled at what I did that is so possibly shameful.
The night before her ninth, I was very excited. As she got ready for bed, I kept saying things like, "Wow! You're going to go to sleep an eight year old and wake up a nine year old! You're such a big girl! It's your birthday tomorrow!"
Her dad was excited too, but he's a lot less emotional than I am. So yeah, I was the embarrassing parent, again.
Finally, she told me, "Mommy, can you stop talking about my birthday already? It's... embarrassing."
I really don't get it because it was just the two of us in her bedroom, and I don't get how I could embarrass her with nobody else present. But whatever. I stopped.
I honestly do not remember being like this when I was prepubescent, but I think Olivia and I are very different personalities. Or maybe I was and this is my karma coming around.
You know all those things you do when you're a kid and your parents warn you, "Just wait till you have kids of your own!" Maybe it's that.
Great, this is just great. If I'm already so embarrassing and she's been nine for a day, I wonder what's in store for me over the next five or so years.
If I'm lucky, I'll still get to keep writing this blog or showing up at school, lest my daughter convince me I'm a total social misfit. So embarrassing.