It has come to pass recently that I became the mother of a teenager.
And my mother in law is moving in the middle of this month.
(Please reference, again, the title of a recent post “Am I Insane?” and my question “What in Valhalla was I thinking when I signed up to do NaNo?” The answers are “Yes, gleefully so.” and “About the pretty black words magically appearing on the blank white page.”)
Life moves so fast. I’ve only watched one episode of “Gray’s Anatomy”, that was all it really seemed worth, but the main character did say one thing that has stuck with me.
“This being grown up thing, is there any way to make it stop?”
Having babies is a lark. It makes me feel young again, being able to rediscover the world through my young child’s eyes. But having a teenager makes me feel the weight of my admittedly not so numerous years.
It isn’t that she thinks or says that I’m old, but that I remember being in her shoes. She is still discovering her world, but the things she is discovering now are in a large part evidence that the world is a very hard place to live in, even for the terminally happy. She is leaving the idylls of childhood behind her.
Any way at all to make it stop? We’d both like to get off the bus now…