Chickadee is home again, and I know it’s wrong, but the regression she experiences when tired and uncomfortable totally makes me giggle. I swear last night I navigated a crowd of parents and stinky middle schoolers and plucked Toddler Chickadee of Yore out of the crowd, she who hugged me and delighted in my having brought the dog and promptly broke down into sniffles because her face was sunburned and it “huuuuuuuuurts” to wear her glasses (sniff, sniff). I tried to be solicitous, I did; but I kept laughing. It was all just so very pitiful.
I brought her home and tucked her into bed and am not anticipating seeing her today for many hours, yet. Poor little pumpkin of impaired judgment.
While the dog and I wait to see whether we get well-rested and happy Chickadee or cranky pubescent harbinger of doom, I’ve been musing on a little something I’d like to tell my younger self, and possibly pass along to Chickadee, as well. And that important message is over at Off Our Chests today. (Hint: It involves appreciation of Life Before Gravity.)
I hear you! My kids are older, 3 teens and a tween, and while I hate when they’re sick or hurt, I do love the cuddling and caring that I’m only then allowed to dispense. Makes the horror of teenage angst so much more bearable!
I sorta suspect that *I* revert to toddlerhood when I’m tired and achy and have been away from places I love too long! Chickie has all my sympathy – but then so do you!
I had to laugh…when I taught private flute lessons, the majority of my students were middle school girls. I had a toddler boy at home. Their emotional equilibrium is EXACTLY the same.
I feel like reading your blog is giving me ammunition for the future with my daughter. She’s a baby now, but I see so much of my younger self in your daughter that I greatly fear how I will deal with my daughter when she reaches this point too.
I’m so happy you are amused by from time to time because it is pretty funny.
I haven’t gone over there yet, but an Off Our Chests post about Life Before Gravity has to be about loss of – ahem – frontal perkiness, right?
I would love to get gravity off my chest.
I totally revert to toddlerhood, except my Mum isn’t around nearly as consistently to bear me up ;) Oh, and I am so with Cele’s comment haha.
Yes! Exactly! What you said, me too! I hope I can make my girls get that yes, appreciate your bodies, but real beauty comes from your attitude – your spunk. Sure, people will always be attracted to drop-dead-gorgeousness, but if there isn’t any spunk that goes with it, they’re going to realize that person is just empty, without any flair or personality, and then they’ll drop them once the dazzle wears off. But spunk and laughter and wit? Who ever gets tired of that? I mean – how else would I look this incredible? ;-)