My eldest has officially grown up, and moved out into the great big world, on her own. ((**Don’t get me started*)) She is transforming and changing into this amazing person that I am so lucky to have gotten to spend 18 years with. Its been hard coming into her room. Okay, took me 11 days to even open the door… but who’s counting.

Little by little, I have been spending more and more time in Rebecca’s room. Its been her room since she was one (1) year, and three (3) weeks old. Again, who’s counting. If it wasn’t her room, it was her and Daphne’s room. Or her, Daphne, and Bronwyn’s room. Then it was for a little bit just Bronwyn and Russell’s room, until she moved back in and we gave Russell his own room.

She’s not going to be a little girl, living in this room any more. So, I’m transforming her room into it’s next phase, too.

Let the transformation begin.

Let the transformation begin.

Oh yes... this is going to take 2 coats of primer.

Oh yes… this is going to take 2 coats of primer.

I can still see blue paint.... pffft!

I can still see blue paint…. pffft!

“One Day” has magically arrived, like the fairy tales describe. It was just suddenly here. I thought that there would be more time. There isn’t.

Kindergarden

Kindergarden

The sun is bright -n- shining today ~ just like you.

I can still see the excited litlle girl, who laid out her red flower backpack 13 years ago.  Who wanted me to braid her hair each morning, “2 braids Mommy!”.  Who always insisted on wearing a dress, and that I not cry.

My heart is full of Love for you.  Joy at the beautiful girl you’ve grown into.  Pride at the way you are chasing your dreams with both hands.

Senior Year

Senior Year

Now before me stands an excited young woman, laying out her cap and gown.  Wearing soft curls in her honey locks.  Twirling around in her princess dress.

And insisting that I dry my tears.

My daughters have been like having twins, in more days than not.   Even when they were little, everything we did, we did in pairs.  Change 1 diaper – change them both.  Do one girl’s hair – then do the other.  I taught Daphne, right along side of Rebecca, when doing numbers, shapes, letters, colors, and so forth.  They learned to ride a bike on the same day.  They spoke within days of each other.  So many times it was like Rebecca was waiting for Daphne to ‘catch up’ – before she would do anything.

Same thing for the prom.  This was their first year going.  Each of them…. Together.

My beautiful daughters.

My beautiful daughters.

You gotta get down... you'll be taller than me in those heels!

You gotta get down… you’ll be taller than me in those heels!

Daphne - Classic elegance

Daphne – Classic elegance

Rebecca - Princess

Rebecca – Princess

easter

becca and me

10395181_10206367428168454_2623232468573693221_n

“Which were you?
The princess
The brain.
The jock.
The basketcase.
The rebel.”

Rebecca and I went to see the Breakfast Club last night.  I like how she really got into the movie.  Then she actually had nice, intelligent commentary about the film.

So rebecca made a big claim on Twitter last night about how awful her life was, and that she had cut herself.
So I asked her about it, today. Wanting to know if this was real, or just something to get attention.
She was noncommittal in her response. And refused to show me any marks. And so I told her, “Well okay that’s fine play the role.”
Well Rebecca decided that she had to prove me wrong. 
She showed me where she cut her skin with a razor blare. 
6 little red lines.
Like a message, Of my little sister can do it, I can too.
It’s just a cry for attention. 
She was actually smiling, as if she was proud of herself, for proving me wrong.
Pfffft!
I’m starting to get bored with the things that teenaged daughters come up with,  to garner attention.
Between this, Bronwyn’s temper tantrums, and Daphne’s gauges and hair dye jobs….. I want to curl up in an over sized chair, with enough books and good wine, to last me till they are 20, 23, and 24.

So after talking to J, the girls’ therapist, I’m going to give Daphne what she wants. I’m going to let her move-in with her dad.

After all, I will be out of town this weekend, till Tuesday. I can add on tonight, and make it nearly a week long thing for them all.

Oh yes. Them all!

A few things about this that came up in talking with J.

1) Baggage goes with you.
Is that Daphne (and her dad) have got to learn that her baggage is going to follow her, wherever she goes. Life doesn’t get easier just because you move away from home. You still have to find ways to cope with your life. You still have to learn how to express your emotions. You still have to do your homework. No matter where you live.

Sure its going to be easier when there is nobody around to hold you accountable, right up front. Yet, it will catch up to you all the same. Usually though by not dealing with it, in the beginning, you end up having to deal with a much worse situation. Call it Karmic Interest.

2) Your siblings get to move out too.
Oh yes. Rebecca, Bronwyn, and Russell all get to come along. Its not fair to them, if Daphne gets to go live a live of luxury over at Dad’s place, and they still have to eat green beans for dinner. I’m not going to sit here and defend the idea that somehow she gets to have special privileges of no Study Hall, no curfew, fast-food take-out, no laundry duty, no chores, and no accountability for where you’re at, or who you’re with; if the others don’t.

The EX complained that he doesn’t get to spend time enough with the kids, well here you go. Which is a complete falsehood, because it is rare, to non-existent that I ever deny him, or them, time together. He even admitted this to me during our “conversation” this morning. AND again, when I brought it up, while we were having an additional “conversation” about this Trial Week.
Me: At any point do I force the current child-time-share agreement?
Ex: No.
Me: Have I ever told you that you were late in bringing the kids home on a Sunday?
Ex: No.
Me: Have I ever told you, No you can’t have the kids, and take to the beach; because that is on a weekday?
Ex: No.

3) Living at Dad’s means Living AT Dad’s.
No coming home 9 times in a day because you forgot something. No coming back to the house to sleep on school nights. Yes, Rebecca and Daphne do this. They pick and choose where / when they will sleep at home, vs sleeping at Dad’s. They don’t like having to walk the extra 7 blocks to the school bus in the mornings. But sleeping here at home, when I’m not here; is basically not living with either parent. Its living alone. They don’t get to do that during this Trial Week.

Living there means following all of Dad’s rules. If that means going to bed at midnight, or sleeping on the floor, or having to throw out the trash. So be it. I will not be driving by your Dad’s with fast food, because you didn’t like what he was serving. Oh, he does this to me, all the time. He will simply come by the house with a bag from Taco Bell, as I’m serving dinner.

So this will be a very interesting 6 nights. I know, I know, I know – a week is 7. Be grateful for the 6 days, I’m not sure I can handle more than that. I’m trying.