The little things….it is Sunday morning. I’m drinking peppermint coffee. I’m trying something new. Flavored coffee. So maybe, I’ll put less milk and sugar in my coffee because I’m actually lactose intolerant and am stubborn. I’ve been drinking my coffee this way since I was twelve. Sadly at 49 my body is like hey lady slow your roll on the dairy.
But I digress…
Music is Rod Stewart. Sir Rod turns 77?! as I write this, my favorite Maggie May is on in the background.
I started to write last week about things that are hard to talk about with your ex. Last week was money and I have a few more, but I had to share a mini miracle.
My daughter is a new teenager. She turned thirteen in June and me being me I bought all the books and neatly stacked them on my bookshelf unread.
I have watched friends with teen daughters ride the roller coaster and me being me I was scared.
I mean I mess up a lot.
A whole lot.
So far, aside from a few hiccups and honestly what I consider pretty standard stuff. We’ve been fine. I do enjoy getting told to leave when I’ve overstayed my welcome in her room. I also find a lot of joy in singing Van Halen Is This Love at the top of my lungs near her and what Mom doesn’t break out in dance in front of her daughter when her favorite band is on?
But I also put everything down when she comes to talk to me.
I let her know the days I’m working from home, my schedule and what meetings she will bust in on.
I tell her I love her all the time.
All the time.
I’m proud of her.
I ask her how she’s doing.
I am slowly feeling more comfortable answering questions I hoped she wouldn’t ask.
I will be honest I was not so great at this before and I still am not. But I recognize I need to try to be.
I recognize we have a long journey ahead but I am trying to build a strong foundation.
Yesterday I got handed a brick.
I’m writing bills and she sits on the side of my bed which I use as my desk sometimes and tells me when she is eighteen she wants a tattoo.
She explains what and where.
As she’s talking she slides onto my bed and leans into me and puts my arms around her.
She starts asking me about my tattoos, what they mean. Did they hurt?
What do I think?
We talk a bit longer.
I kiss the top of her head and then she says thanks Mom and leaves.
Just like that… she’s thirteen again.
I go in before bedtime and tell her good night and say thank you for asking me about all of this.
She says “well of course Mom. You’re my Mom”.
It’s the little things.
Much love Mommas