It's starting, and I know there isn't too much I can do to stop it. My daughter is growing up, and along with growing up comes the need for space.
Space that I'm not occupying.
The Mother in me yearns to knock on her door right now.
Are you OK?
Did you and your friends have a fight? Is that why they didn't come over today?
Are you texting a boy?
What are you saying to the boy, if you're texting him?
Are you reading that book I told you about? Do you like it?
Are you sad? Mad? Tired? Really OK, like you say you are?
I must not hover.
I remember how very important it was for me to be alone in my room back when I was her age.
Yes, says the Mom Voice, but you weren't alone in your room with an iPhone that your Daddy bought you potentially texting boys and surfing the net on who knows what site.
Oh, shut up, Mom Voice.
She's a good kid. And she even showed you her text messages when you asked - not a boy to be found. She was mostly sending pictures of the cat and her stuffed animals to her friends. And besides, I see her iPhone right now, sitting on the counter. See? You're making yourself nuts over a pre-teen girl who wants to hang in her room for awhile. That's all.
That won't always be all.
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