Memed--or The Further Adventures of Kidult.
My daughter is back and school. I’m proud of her, but I miss her. I chuckle as I write this because as much as I miss her and couldn’t wait for her to get home, I couldn’t’ wait for her to go back. Certainly, there is wonder in watching a girl grow into womanhood. Just as I was filled with pride when she took her first steps, I am happy for her and scream (inside) “I did that!” as she conquers the challenges in her life. Alas, there is also pain in watching someone as strong-willed as my daughter ( where’d she get that from!) grow and learn to accept and love herself as she blossoms into womanhood—in my space! We text every day (at the very least). Sometimes, we call each other. She calls for advice, to chat or just to have an ear to listen as she works out her problems. Our texts are like an on-going conversation—until I make her mad and she stops responding. I challenge her and find that I can’t help myself. It’s what I do. The other day, though, I was beyond myself as I review one