Wednesday night, Fiddledaddy sensing I was on the cusp of yet another nervous breakdown, offered to take my place as a Spark’s leader at Awana. Thusly ensuring his super hero status in my fragile mind.
The next day, he alerted me about the evenings events. It seems that as he was hurtling down the road going anywhere from 40 to 50 MPH, Emme chose that moment to announce to her father that she was engaged.
She’s 8, people. I was at least 9 before I was engaged.
My eyes widened. I hadn’t heard this tidbit of information. “Who’s she engaged to?”
Fiddledaddy sighed, “I have no idea. An explosion went off in my head, and everything was a little fuzzy. I may have used the word ‘inappropriate’.”
I was surprised he didn’t total the car.
We both looked over the kitchen counter at Emme, who was busy nibbling on a bagel. Her daddy asked her who her “friend” was that she was talking about last night.
Oh my word. The smile that lit her face. We got a first name out of her. And we discovered that he goes to our church. Bonus. And that he’s in Awana, but not in our particular group. Double bonus. And that he is homeschooled. Ding, ding, ding.
At least I can keep my eye on her.
We had another one of our impromptu conversations about how great it is to have lots of friends, and boys make really nice friends, as well.
The word friends was stressed a few
hundred dozen times.
And we did it all while not freaking out and keeping a straight face. But, I watched my husband age a few years.
His baby girl is growing up right before his eyes. And he’s powerless to stop it.
She wants to do more grown-up things. Dangerous stuff. Like drive without a booster seat. Straighten her hair. Pierce her ears.
She’s been really campaigning hard about the ear piercing thing. Especially since her girlfriend from Awana got her ears pierced last week. Her younger girlfriend.
So, last night, Fiddledaddy took advantage of the situation. Emme and her newly pierced friend, Ainslee, were sitting and coloring a Bible picture, while discussing earrings.
Fiddledaddy asked Ainslee, “Did it hurt?” “Yes,” she answered matter-of-factly. “It felt like a car ran over my head. And I can’t sleep because they bother me. And they have to stay in for 6 whole months.” She continued with her coloring. And reiterated, “It felt like a car ran over my head.”
Emme’s eyes were wide as saucers.
Mission accomplished. Not a word has been said about having her ears pierced since Wednesday. This is the squeamish daughter.
She scared the stuffing out of us yesterday when she was in the bathroom. We heard a scream. Followed by, “MOM! I’M BLEEDING. REALLY REALLY BAD!”
Well. I nearly broke a femur clearing a baby gate to get to the bathroom. All the while imagining the worse. Early menstruation. Somebody kill me. However, I discovered that she had picked an ant bite on her leg. And ALL THE BLOOD? It measured in circumference the size of a pin head.
Leading me to believe that she’ll have to be sedated when her menses really does begin. I believe we’ll all be needing some type of medication.
There is hope. She’s not as grown up as she would like. And that fact was solidified in my mind when I saw her get out of her bed last night and head into the family room. Where she scooped up her beloved puppy dog and thread bare yellow blanket. She held them close to her heart as she padded down the hall back to her room.
And I hold that image close to my heart. She is, after all, still our baby girl.