Ain't no sunshine when she's gone...

E-Grrrl is at a slumber party tonight, and the whole houses aches with the silence of her absence. While my son often quietly retreats into his books, Gameboy, or building projects, E-Grrrl is a word-bomb exploding on the home scene.

From the moment she steps off the school bus until we tuck the covers under her chin, she's chattering away. She narrates her day, tells me what she and her girlfriends played on the playground, the plot of the book she's reading, what she studied in school and how she did on her papers, who got into trouble, and what she did on the bus on the way home.

She grabs my hand when we're walking and dissects every facet of her existence, telling me what she's thinking about and why. At home, she interjects herself into every conversation and finishes my sentences for me. Sigh. I know I tell her to stop talking at least once a day because she fires so many words into my aging brain that my own thoughts run for cover.

But while I sometimes cringe as her words ricochet endlessly in my head, more often I love to be part of her endless conversations. She amazes me with her maturity and her insights, delights me with her finely tuned sense of humor, and makes me smile simply because she is so positive, so bubbly, so fun.  Yes, sometimes she takes it all a bit too far but life with E-Grrrl is never dull--or quiet.

She is nine and this is her first night alone away from home. In the U.S., she occasionally spent the night with friends and family but always in the company of her  big brother. Generally our policy is "no sleepovers" but this one was honoring one of her closest friend's birthdays at the start of a three-day weekend with just a few girls attending.  I knew she'd be crushed if she couldn't go.

She carefully packed her bags and got ready, counting down the minutes until her dad would take her over.

I told her I was going to miss her--and I meant it. She confessed she was a little bit nervous about the whole thing.

I tell her if she changes her mind about it, she can call us anytime and we'll come get her. Period.

She says, "Even at 11 at night?"

"Anytime," I tell her, "No questions asked."

She hugs me hard, and I tell her I'm a little nervous too. It will be strange not having all my chicks in the nest tonight, but one thing for sure--we'll have LOTS to talk about tomorrow.

November 9, 2006

Copyright 2006 Veronica McCabe Deschambault. All rights reserved. www.v-grrrl.com 

Comments

[Nance]

How exciting!...and once she gets back home, you'll never shut her up. ;->

[Di]

A 'word-bomb' is a simply delicious description of your Little E.

I'm probably too late for you to read my 'Good luck' but I'll send some good luck over anyway.

[karim]

How sweet to miss her. That's the way it always was for me. Unfortunately, all my chicks are out of the nest now. (Love that you use that phrase too.)

[wordgirl]

Well...first she'll crash from exhaustion. Then she'll wake up and eat something...and then...she'll start talking. And if she's like I was, she won't stop for quite awhile.

[Wendy]

Nine is such a good and chatty age. You should tape her sometime so you will always have her voice,the voice of the perfect girl inside us all. Enjoy!

[amber]

How sweet! What a really good mom you are.
Your girl sounds like my son! Yes, 'word-bomb' is a perfect way to say it. And it drives me nuts, too... But I also love it.

:)

[Emily]

What a fun evening I had yesterday; sitting there reading my Bulletin magazine and who do I read about but my fellow blogger V-grrrl!!! You are famous now(well, at least in Brussels)! Congratulations!

[Lisa]

My first thoughts were to warn you to cherish this time now, even if you think sometimes you'll go mad from the stress of it, but I think you already know that. My little girl was much like E, and now she lives halfway around the world from me. Sometimes I think my heart will break from wanting to pull her close and brush her hair, or hold her hand, or laugh with her until we both think we'll pee ourselves. Sometimes I think I see her here on the street and I almost rush up to the stranger before I have to remind myself. That's the worst about it, reminding your heart not to be happy because it's not the one you think it is. It's sometimes very hard to see mothers with their young daughters on the street, holding hands and talking. I wish my time with her at E's age would've lasted a lot longer than it did, and I would've recognized it for the precious thing it was, and not just something to get through to get us from A to B during our busy days.

[Jenny]

Girl, I so feel this post.

I can't function without my loud little girl filling up my mind. Perfect post.

[Shirl Grrrl]

You have a no sleep-over rule? I wish we would have done that! Our kids drive us nuts with the sleep-overs... not a weekend goes by when one of them is not asking if so & so can sleep over or can I sleep over at X's house. We have two families that we regularly exchange kids with and it's nice that the parents get a night to themselves and can go out to breakfast the next morning without a battle. But every weekend the nagging gets to be too much.

[Lynn]

I haven't allowed any sleepovers yet, either - they've only been theoretical up to this point but I'm sure my time is coming... I'm up for hosting one, I'm not sure I'm ready to send them off yet...

[RD]

Wow, it must have been quite the reunion the next day. My daughter's first sleepover was in Belgium too, and we were both a bit apprehensive. Thankfully, it went well.
P.S. Tell us about your feature in The Bulletin!

[Char]

The sleepover circle is a very small one here. I have a very few close friends who we swap kids with from time to time, but I am just not up for the kids going to group sleepovers yet. We have hosted a few, but I limit them to a very small group of well behaved kids.

[V-Grrrl]

I haven't seen The Bulletin article so I have no idea what it says. I'll have to track a copy of it down somewhere. Can any of my Belgian readers help?

[Mignon]

I'm curious V, why no sleepovers? Is it a safety thing? I can understand that, as the thought of something happening to my children in someone else's house haunts me day and night.

I like this line: "she fires so many words into my aging brain that my own thoughts run for cover." Sometimes it feels like my brain has finite physical boundaries - like a dog kennel. And children get in the kennel and all the adult thinking gets squished into the doghouse, cowering in the dark...

[Ernie Jo]

I loved this post because E-Grrrl's descriptions of her day are not unlike 6-year-old M's. And while I, too, get worn out from her talking, and exhausted by the times when she loses her temper with me, an older friend of mine (with teenagers) urged me to be grateful that M. was talking to me-- even if she's yelling at me, at least I know what she's thinking! This advice has been heeded periodically and I find myself more and more appreciative of M's company and open conversation.

Having as many little people to wrangle as I do, I sometimes try to imagine what life would be like if each child were my first, or only. It was inspiring to see how beautiful and rich that mother-daughter relationship can be. Thank you for that image of the two of you holding hands in the park, I loved it.