When I get home, she will taunt me. She will do in her will to try and get my attention. I would be zoned out, on the sofa with eyes flipping backwards and forwards. Her thoughts and words prancing all over me. She is only 8, but sometimes her words and actions just flip me inside out.
Me: What are you doing? Just. Sit. Still. Please.
Her: But I wanna watch the TV. Just not this channel. Can I have the remote, Mom?
Me: No. I don’t get to watch TV and I want to watch this.
Her: But I haven’t watched anything today. And I’ve got this nice show on, Mom. (Flips channel)
Me: (Flips back to original channel)
Her: Did you know that someone hid the remote while you were at work today? I don’t know why, who did it. I mean, why does anyone need to hide the remote anyway. (Flips channel)
Me: Honey, YOU always like hiding the TV remote. (Flips to original channel)
She slowly paces and then…
Her: Mommy, Mommy come look at me do this (Flips, rolls and jumps from the across the room onto the bed)
Then she silently leaves… with my phone… half way down or up to somewhere.
She is like this even more when I’m zoned out dry. Like, when I feel like curling up and grow myself a shell on my back, she would just come popping even more to physically stir me. The kind of wake up that, is beyond – she really wants my mind to be awake. There has been days when I just can’t respond to anything, with this tendency for being down. That’s when she’ll be really consistent to snap me out of it. She saves me.
Just as how I’m able to comfort her when her nerves get the best of her during air travel, on the boat over the sea; being able to push her shyness with dance classes, martial arts and swimming. I want her equipped and safe for her future.
At the age of 8, she is able to sort herself out from own time management to transportation when I’m unable to send her or brain-process something. She really is something else. My little band of Adventure Time. My Princess Bubblegum, my Marceline.
Like this morning while I was getting ready for work:
Her: Mom, are you wearing that?
Her: Are you sure?
Me: (Looks at mirror. Scans self up down.) Do I need to change?
Her: (Head shake) It doesn’t go.
Me: (Pulls out something else) This?
Her: This purple one looks better on you.
She loves purple. I didn’t feel like the colours worked together, but my judgement is always wrong when it comes with clothes, for myself – yes, for myself – why? It makes shopping for me feel so good that ends me up as a fashion disaster having everyone else shaking their heads when I wear them.
I truly know this symbiosis is our one of a kind. She is meant for me, just as I am meant for her. We’re just, cute. And we have 14 cats. We’re purrfect and catstatic.