"Don't get up, Mom, I can do it all by myself". This is what I heard this morning as my alarm went off at 6:30 so I could get Savannah up and ready for school. She beat my alarm to it. She encouraged me to sleep in and she could take her shower, pick out her own clothes (a uniform), make her own breakfast and lunch. At first I protested. We've never done it this way before and then I decided to wait for a few minutes in my warm bed until she came and got me because she needed me for something. I waited. And waited. I heard the shower in her bathroom. Heard the fridge open and close 15 minutes later. Heard the ding of the toaster. And still I waited. My little girl never needed me. I laid there thinking about this new path we are on. I want to be on this path and yet I don't. This isn't the first time I have felt this way, either. I felt this when I was her age and slightly older. I knew it was time to grow up, shed the trappings of youth and move forward yet I didn't want to. It's like putting one toe into the pool to test the temperature of the water; it's a bit cool so you step onto the first step and wait awhile. You get a little more brave and go in to your knees. Once you step onto the bottom of the shallow end you must go quickly all the way because your abdomen has been shocked and now it's too late.
I remember being so excited to go to Jr. High school. I had attended a small, country-esque elementary school and was ready for the 1/2 hour bus ride to town to the Jr. High. It was a much bigger school. We all went on an orientation for the new year that was to come after summer. We would be changing classrooms, having lockers, eating lunch on campus where we wanted. I was a young lady now! I wore a light yellow jumper and kneehigh white socks confident that I looked the part of the 7th grader. Unbeknownst to me, my kneehighs made me look 'juvenille' and I was teased by girls going to the orientation who knew better. Yep, my push-and-pull into adolescence had begun.
Savannah finally came in and 'got me'. She had been quite successful in doing everything she needed to do. Lunch, check. Shower, check. Breakfast, check. Hair brushed, teeth brushed, check. She didn't need me. I was sad yet proud of her. We drove the 15 minutes to her school with me deep in thought. "Thank heavens we have Bethany still or I would be a mess", seemed to be the only thought I could coherently put together. It's going to go soo fast now. I knew she would need me less and less and I was going to have to fortify myself for all the changes ahead. We pulled up to the school and I parked. We stepped out, I kissed her (praise God we're not there yet) and waited for her to walk in. She turned to me and said, "Mama, aren't you going to walk me up? I missed you this morning". Up the three of us walked and I had to work to keep my feet on the ground after that.