When LieLie (who wants to be called Coralie) was born, I felt like a starfish who broke off an arm and grew a baby from it. I really felt like she was a tangent of me that looked like a cabbage patch and rarely slept. She is so very much like me personality wise, style wise, academically and emotionally. I know if I have an avocado and a holiday themed outfit she is all in! I know she would rather read the history of microbiology twice than multiply by eight once. I know that bad real estate photos and awkward family photo websites make everything better. When she marches to her own drum, lets mean girls roll off her back and gets boys to play monster high doll with her, it is from the heart and not a mask for another feeling. What you see is what you get with her and I know the rest of the world will have a hard time believing that sometimes, but that will be ok, too! She has grit and resiliency and will always be ok but she is not my starfish arm and won’t always be like me. Her little light has started to shine in directions that have nothing at all to do with me! Imagine that! I know, I know, shake your head at my density but please note that I have come a long way from the days when I wouldn’t wear clothes that clashed with hers:) That stopped when she was five and she announced “I am not your accessory!” Oh, how I love that girl. I love her more than matching outfits, Cheetos and dirty martinis. So that leads me to my point: Monday night I took her to practice with a local adult choir. She is a guest singing during their Christmas concert season. Whenever the music says “children’s choir” it will be just her with a microphone. She walked up to the podium, picked up her sheet music and mic and just took over. Four part harmony all around her, only kid in sight and her voice loud and calm over the whole thing leading it. I was looking at the adult LieLie. I’d never heard the song before, I hadn’t arranged this event, I couldn’t help her if she failed. I was a spectator in HER life rather than her project manager. We walked out holding hands and I said it felt weird not to helicopter parent and just watch. She said “don’t worry I signed you up to be the stage mom for the middle school musical.”
So today is school picture day. 6th grade. Skirt and pants and a talking cat for all of posterity.