How Baby

My mom can correct me if I’m misremembering, but I don’t think I had a ‘thinks my parents are disgusting idiots’ phase when I was a teenager. I had, like, a pretty normal level of rebellion while I sorted out my identity, and probably said some stupid shit without thinking, but overall? Pretty good teenagerhood over here.

Blessedly, Momo seems content to take maturity at her own pace, too. I’m hoping it holds, especially as all around her all her friends are seemingly turning into morose teens. Only four months ago, I was bonding with this same mom over how our daughters were still happy being kids, and now… another one has crossed the veil to the other side of childhood.

Watching your kid grow into a teenager is a different kind of learning than the immediate, urgent reconfiguring of self that having a baby is. It’s slow. You see it coming the entire time. You even see its foot soldiers popping up: today they get their own cereal, but tomorrow they stop calling it a ‘play date’. Today they sing in the shower, and next week they want a cell phone. Today, Momo went through her bin of toys and kept only the ones she felt sentimental about. We retired her stuffed animals to a high shelf of honour. It’s hard. And good. And necessary. I’m holding on to these times, when it still feels slow.

Oncoming.

Not yet.

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I’m going to be at Akimatsuri this Saturday, November 23, so if you’re a local you can find me there! Yeah, yeah, I wrote September in the last post… I’m not fully convinced it’s November, yet.

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TRANSCRIPT

Panel 1: Lindsay and another mom sit on school gym benches
Lindsay: Should we go sit near the girls?
Mom: Nah, I got told I’m not allowed to sit near here. She’s too cool for mom now.
Lindsay: Oh… we’re not there, yet.

Panel 2: Lindsay looking sad/concerned
Mom: Hah! Give it six months.
Lindsay: …oh.

Panels 3-4: textless; Momo, playing volleyball in the gym, looks back and notices Lindsay watching. She waves excitedly back as the volleyball donks past her.