Growing Up Is Hard To Do
So, the Destroyer is only three years old, and already she doesn’t need me.
Like the dutiful parent I am, I signed her up for the next level of swimming lessons this fall. Bye bye to the large class of babies and nursery rhymes and splashing. Hello to a class where the students are actually required to learn something.
But, Bitches, the course description said that the parent will be required to be in the pool for the first half, and perhaps could sit out as the child becomes comfortable in the water without us.
On the first day, I was told to sit on the side of the pool, and yesterday i didn’t bring my bathing suit at all. I sat on the benches watching in a total jealous haze as my Twee Destroyer ran off with her teacher and forgot all about me.
I’ve already rendered myself obsolete. How? How can this happen? Next she’s gonna grow boobs and be calling boys and getting her period. And I blame swimming lessons.
I mean, I guess it’s good that she is able to bond with another adult and ease into social situations like a champ. But my brain was screaming about how easy it would be for someone to kidnap her and sell her to China and it’s all because I didn’t go in the pool with her. It was telling me to find a way to get her to hate her teacher so that she would need me to go play and help her dunk her head under water and kick her feet. Because isn’t that my job?
I hate that teacher. Hate her.
I was so proud to watch her be brave about the things that she was scared to do just a few weeks ago. And so jealous that I wasn’t able to be the one to guide her through them.
This growing up thing sucks balls.