The signs are here….that he’s about to leave the nest, forget me and all the good food that I’ve ever cooked for him…and that I spend a painful number of hours ironing his clothes for him every single day, I fold his underwear, match his socks, wrap his books, bought him his favorite CDs, his Nintendo Wii, Nintendo DS Lite, and tells him a thousand times over in a day that I love him.
Kid No. 1 is outgrowing my mothering techniques – and I was disillusioned into thinking that I had it down pat.
I can see it, smell it…sometimes, I taste it. Er…leaves a very nasty taste in my mouth, I mean. He’s starting to enjoy his own personal space more now that he’s going to be double-digit years old next year. Oh, gawrd. How they grow so fast, I am blinded by the speed of it all.
During his participation in the school’s musical, I think a part of me still thinks that he’s a kindergartener….DIAPER CHANGE! But no. I flew from backstage to frontstage, backstage to front just to make sure that everything’s done according to MY RULES….teachers be damned!
Too much lipstick, clothes lop-sided, this is the wrong color blush …blah blah blah….such dictatorship can be seen in me only when it concerns my kids. Nobody screws around with the star of my life. He may have a small dancing role (in which he does a really disastrous yet comical job at), but he’s the star, and I don’t care what they say there on the booklet. And they even spelt his name wrongly…the cheek on them people.
I know that it’s probably time for me to learn more about dealing with a pre-teen. In a blink of an eye, he’s standing next to me and the top of his head measures right up to nearly my shoulder, and mind you, I am no pixie.
The downside of dealing with the first child is that you’re never really prepared because you’ve never done it before, granted, no child is ever the same but then again, at least you’re more emotionally prepared for erratic choices and unavoidable talk-backs 2nd time around.
It comes with being a pre-teen and teen. Soon, we’d be talking about condoms, erections, girls, masturb……. *cringe* Hey, do you think I have to supply the Playboy magazine, or is something else hotter out there in the market?
During the concert, his expression upon seeing me bustling up to him tells me that he’s less than delighted to see me. Only a little. I swear. If he did not fear my temper, one that is bigger than the Universe, he would have shoved me and said, ‘Would you quit hanging around? You’re embarrassing me!’
The show was oddly entertaining, albeit, primary school standard woody acting and similarly ‘enchanting’ dance moves. Impressed, I am not. But there is ONE dance scene that was good and it was Voulez-Vous (Mama Mia) and I have to say that the teacher did a fabulous job coordinating that one. Others, we yawned our way through it and tried to plaster a really blinding toothy smile on our faces. It worked. No one asked us for our opinion on the show.
As much as I would have liked to stay back to watch the seniors perform their show called Mikado (don’t have a clue about this one but it sounded truly interesting) but we had to leave after Kid 1 was given the green light to leave.
That’s because of teeth erosion caused by consistent grinding. I grind my teeth every time Kid 2 says, “This is BOOOOORRRRIIIINNNGGGGG! Can we go now? This is taking forever…”
It wasn’t spectacular but it was credit-worthy. Most importantly, it gave the kids a chance to perform and show off – we know how THAT feels like, eh? It was….erm, if nothing else, very good exposure. So, I don’t quite get it when some really kiasu parents complain this, complain that, complain this, complain that….bah! Whatcha expect you old sod? Bloody Miss Saigon???
All I know is that my kid (only one of them) had fun, the other one had the supporting role of trying to make his parents tear the curtains down.
And we almost did.