I had to buy her a new swimsuit for the party, since the one she had last year was tight by the end of the season, and of course I had to pick up a present for the birthday girl. I imagine this birthday party stuff will get expensive quick once Punky starts kindergarten and is invited to a party every other weekend. And it's hard to decide what to buy for kids I know nothing about. Punky chose a mermaid Barbie for her classmate. I hope her friend loves them as much as she does.
After pizza, and cake, and presents, it was finally time to head to the pool. The excitement in the locker room was immense as all the little girls scrambled to get into their suits and out to the pool. Screechy, high-pitched giggles echoed through the tiled room as they compared the various colors, patterns, and styles of their bathing suits. I don't often have the opportunity to observe Punky with her peers so I enjoyed taking it all in.
My mind drifted back to my own youthful past. I remember those days of giggly girl fun. I remember the skating parties, the slumber parties, the party when one brave mom took two carloads of awkward, clumsy, pre-teen girls to an enormous walk-through haunted house that sparked the earliest bout of insomnia I ever remember having. I remember the hours upon hours of boy talk when we discussed in great detail who we would marry, where we would live, and the quantity and names (first, middle, and last) of our perfect, future offspring. We were blissfully innocent, ignorant to how the real world works, full of hope and excitement for our futures, and for a split second I almost wished I could go back in time...
Then, one little girl made a snide remark about another's freckle-covered shoulders and my daydream ended abruptly.
On one hand I'm so excited to watch Punky grow up and have all those experiences, but my heart sinks when I think of all the not-so-fun moments that are bound to accompany them. Peer pressure is rough. Fitting in is not always easy. Best friends will come and go. Crushes will break her heart. And kids will pick on kids for the tiniest little things. That moment in the locker room reminded me of just how hard growing up can be.
I honestly don't think I'd voluntarily go back through adolescence for any amount of money in the world. Maybe if I could keep the wisdom I have now at forty, I'd consider it. On second thought, no, I wouldn't even want to under those circumstances. Kids are mean. Adults don't understand anything. And I had acne issues. Even though it would be my escape from forty, I'd still pass.
Punky is sitting at the very beginning of the long journey through school to adulthood. I hope I can guide her through it, not just as her mom, but as her friend. It's bound to be one hell of a trip, for both of us.
My mind drifted back to my own youthful past. I remember those days of giggly girl fun. I remember the skating parties, the slumber parties, the party when one brave mom took two carloads of awkward, clumsy, pre-teen girls to an enormous walk-through haunted house that sparked the earliest bout of insomnia I ever remember having. I remember the hours upon hours of boy talk when we discussed in great detail who we would marry, where we would live, and the quantity and names (first, middle, and last) of our perfect, future offspring. We were blissfully innocent, ignorant to how the real world works, full of hope and excitement for our futures, and for a split second I almost wished I could go back in time...
Then, one little girl made a snide remark about another's freckle-covered shoulders and my daydream ended abruptly.
On one hand I'm so excited to watch Punky grow up and have all those experiences, but my heart sinks when I think of all the not-so-fun moments that are bound to accompany them. Peer pressure is rough. Fitting in is not always easy. Best friends will come and go. Crushes will break her heart. And kids will pick on kids for the tiniest little things. That moment in the locker room reminded me of just how hard growing up can be.
I honestly don't think I'd voluntarily go back through adolescence for any amount of money in the world. Maybe if I could keep the wisdom I have now at forty, I'd consider it. On second thought, no, I wouldn't even want to under those circumstances. Kids are mean. Adults don't understand anything. And I had acne issues. Even though it would be my escape from forty, I'd still pass.
Punky is sitting at the very beginning of the long journey through school to adulthood. I hope I can guide her through it, not just as her mom, but as her friend. It's bound to be one hell of a trip, for both of us.
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