Oh my Bob!

That’s all I have.

Oh, except, congratulations to lovely Emma and Lucy who will soon be the proud owners of WH SMith goody bags.  I’ll be posting them tomorrow ladies.  :D

This one is mine.

Well sort of mine.

She also belongs to Miss M

And to Mr B

And Grandma

And Grandad

And Granny

And so many friends

But mostly she is her own person.

And I like  who she’s becoming so very much.

I love her even more.

Happy Birthday Miss E.

So proud of you babe.  xxx

At a recent night of  Girl Scout discos, while M (6) was happy to take her Rainbow Leader’s hand and walk into the ‘unknown’, E (10) needed me to stay with her until another girl from Guides came up to her with a smile and took her under her wing.

While M is gaining in confidence E seems to be losing hers a little, and part of me is so scared for her.  Secondary School looms in September, hormones are rearing their gittish little heads and she is definitely going into that slightly awkward and very self conscious phase where you lose the surety of being a ‘cute kid’ and move into the insecurity of changes you cannot control.

To me she is still my ‘cute kid’, but the hormones worry me as my own self esteem issues started at the onset of puberty, and secondary school was pretty much hell for me.  And E is so like me .

Mr B and I have always made sure she knows she is loved, she is beautiful and she is valued, but will it be enough to get her through the next few years relatively unscathed??

What a difference a couple of months can make!

I wrote the paragraph above in May, but 2 months on and things have changed; so much so that while I still view secondary with unease, I have realised the unease is pretty much all mine.

It started with an audition for a local choir where E was lucky enough to gain a place (woohooo).  She took a risk and went for it and thank bob and all his little hairy animals it paid off.  I’d have never had the guts to do that at her age.

She also took her SATS, AND, wait for it, got 99 out of 100 in Maths!!!!  OMG my child is a number legend!!  (It definitely comes from her Dad.)

And finally she took part in a school production of last weekend Annie and said her few lines with the cutest American accent as well as singing a little on her own.  My ghast is completely flabbered.  She suddenly has this aura of satisfaction about her.  Not in a “I am completely fabulous and you should probably all bow” kind of way, but in an “I’m actually ok” kind of way which just makes my heart fill up with pride.

It’s made me realise that it’s ok to encourage your kids to step out of their comfort zone.  The benefits can be huge.  It’s not that I didn’t know that before, but I’ve always cushioned my kids as much as possible and not ‘pushed’ for fear of pushing too much.  I suppose it’s why you’re ‘pushing’.  If it’s for your own gratification, or to keep up with the Jones or for bragging rights then it’s crap, but if you think your child will really benefit from taking a risk, and that they’ll be able to cope with possible failure (which lets face it we all have to face sometimes), then a gentle shove is fine.

So in the last week, when I have barely been online as E has had  her DARE graduation,  a year 6 cake sale, year 6 talent show, performed in 4 Annie shows, attended the school leavers Beach Party and has been preparing for her ‘School Leavers Mass’ (tissues at the ready), I have been learning:

a My kid is wicked
b I should never be allowed in a pet shop when I am hormonal (Blumming PMDD)
and
c Sometimes a push can be good.  Except off a cliff.  That is always bad.

Photo Credit
Edited at the fabulous picnik.com

You see, Miss E is off to her first Guide Camp, and blame it on the hormones or blame it just on being a Mum, I’m worrying.

She’ll be away from tomorrow till Monday, probably having the time of her life, but she’s only 10 and she’ll be away with a group of mostly fourteen-year-olds, and she’s my baby.

When I was out in town recently I saw one of her teachers who told me what a lovely little girl she is, and that she IS still ‘a little girl’ while so many other kids in her year are in such a hurry to grow up.

Being an August birthday it’s inevitable that she will seem younger than some of her friends, and I am so glad that my child is still happy to be a kid, but sometimes I worry that it means she will miss out on a bit of the ‘nurturing’ you know?

She’ll be one of the youngest kids there. She’ll definitely be one of the smallest kids there, and she’s fairly shy, so I suppose I’m kind of worried she’ll be overlooked, you know, not given the time/attention/support she needs.

I know, I know, if this was one of my friends talking I would reassure them that without a doubt, because she is the youngest, she will be watched over and cared for by everyone she is with, but this is my kid so I am allowed to wallow in worry for just a little while ok?

Tonight I am packing her holdall and creating a perfect bedding roll to which we will add her favourite Teddy which is on the ‘kit list’ as an essential item thank bob, and tomorrow, much like a certain Mrs Middleton, I will put on a big smile and wave my little girl off to a new adventure, but inside I will possibly be crying a little, as well as feeling immensely proud.

And if any of you want to know what the princess will be wearing on her big day it will be mostly blue, but that’s just my princess. I’m not really too fussed about the other one, though Miss M would quite like her to wear a mermaids tale.

When I was a little girl I had a book called something like, ‘The Most Beautiful Child’.

In the book, a peacock has forgotten to send his child with their lunch so he asks his friend the owl to take it into school as she is heading that way.

“But how will I know which one is your child?” The owl asks.

“Oh that’s easy,” says the peacock, “Give it to the most beautiful child there.”

The owl nods and sets off. When she gets to the school she searches and searches but can not find the little peacock so she hurries back to tell her friend.

“But all you had to do was find the most beautiful one!” Peacock grumbles.

“Oh I did” said owl. “I searched and searched, but there were none more beautiful than my own.”

I loved this story as a kid. It made an awkward, clumsy, chubby little girl feel just a bit more beautiful. Not quite such an ugly duckling.

I’m not sure if she grasps the enormity of the occasion.

Or maybe it’s not enormous when you are 4.

Maybe the bigger things are whether or not that spider on the wall is still going to be there, or if he has truly gone to do his shopping as Mummy says.

And if you will be allowed to jump in puddles or not on your way round to school.

And whether you and your best friend will get the lovely red and green doughnuts to sit on at school or will have to make do with the blue and yellow ones.

Because, Miss M?

Not bothered in the slightest.

Mummy?

Emotional, excited, squiggles in her gut, and a teeny tiny bit sad.

Which is probably why she forgot to publish this post last night.

Derrrrr.