Well, today was the day.
The day I fully entered into a new stage of parentage.
Up to this point it had only been an idea.
A consultation here.
A starting "plan" there.
Now we're talking commitment.
Today, I walked across the threshold of the orthodontist's door, plunked an $800 down payment on the counter, and begin serving my time in the waiting room chair.
I walked out with a Girl who had four, itty-bitty, teeny-tiney, blue plastic, rubber bands between four teeth.
They look a lot like the ones I buy at Walmart for 50 cents per gross, but what do I know about Orthodontia?
Apparently, they do these things in phases. We've only just begun.
(cue Karen Carpenter)
It may sound like I am complaining. Really, I'm not.
It's just....(and this is gonna sound weird)...but, sometimes I wonder how I got here?
I don't feel old enough to have kiddos that require fixed appliances.
I don't feel mature enough to be driving a suburban-white mini-van and talking to my "babies" about puberty.
I guess its because I still have moments when children barge into the bathroom while I'm in the shower. They still know that the best time to ask me for something their not supposed to have is when I'm distracted on the phone. We're still in the stage of interrupted conversations and wanting to be "checked in on" at night. (That's code for being "tucked in")
But then there are times when I realize I'm in a whole new ball field, and this ain't little league.
For instance, last week I left the kids at home while I hurried to an appointment. In my haste I accidently spilled the contents of my purse on the school room floor. I quickly scooped up what I thought was all my stuff and scrambled out the door.
Later on that day, The Boy nonchalantly hands me a purple and white packet and says, "Hey mom, you might not want to leave your tampons lying on the floor. I accidently stepped on it and the plastic wrapping made a loud bang and scared us to death. It even scared the dog."
And who taught you about tampons anyway?
This morning, I reached for my cell phone and the kids had re-arranged all the ringtones and screen savers.
Now when they call me this is what I see:
They laughed and laughed like it was the funniest sight to see.
For those of you who don't know, my son will be a seventh grader next year.
As in, he'll study Pre-Algebra and will be reading things like Homer and Plato.
Good night! That's just weird.
It seems like just yesterday he was asking me to read How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight? for the bagillionth time.
Back then, I always wished (even at times suggested) he'd pick a book that wasn't so familiar, so I could skip pages without him knowing.
Now I'm glad he didn't.
Its going too fast.
Well, maybe not the payment plan...but you know what I mean.