Every Tuesday evening, my daughter’s elementary school hosts a party at the local rollerskating rink. Since she has only been to a few in recent months, I was surprised when she came home a few weeks ago elated that one of the boys in her class has asked her to accompany him to the upcoming themed Sock Hop at the rollerskating rink.
To her, this was a date. An actual date because a boy had asked her. Both my husband and myself knew that this was just a 10 year old’s attempt at feeling like a teenager. Although we never thought we’d have to deal with such an issue at such a young age, we knew that in only a matter of a few short years, she won’t be asked to the Sock Hop at the rollerskating rink, but to her Senior Prom.
As she prepared to meet her “boy” friend at the rollerskating rink, she seemed more excited to glance around in hopes of seeing her friends, as well. Since I have never dropped her off at a public place without knowing beforehand the parents that would be in attendance, I reluctantly drove away after ensuring she had her rollerskates for the upcoming festivities regardless.
As I was driving home, knowing in just a few hours she would call me to pick her up, it was a difficult period for me to enjoy. A part of me was so happy for her because I know this meant so much to her, then there’s a part of me who was sad that she was no longer my baby girl that I once held as she cried because she lost her favorite Barbie. This was different. This was my little girl en route to adolescence soon followed by womanhood.
Even though on paper, it only seems I am getting ahead of myself, but I know years seem shorter and shorter as we get older, and memories like these should not only be treasured, but enjoyed at the same time.
At 8:30 sharp, I called her cell phone wanting to make sure that everything was OK and if she was ready for me to pick her up. Luckily, she was.
When she got in the car, I couldn’t wait to hear the details of her evening. Her evening without me or my husband in tow. As I had imagined, she had a wonderful time with her friends and her “boy” friend. They rollerskated and played video games while they ate pizza for dinner and candy for dessert.
As she was telling me the details of her evening, my mind couldn’t help but wander to the soon-to-be events of when she’ll tell me about her first one-on-one date at a movie, or her first dance, or even when she'll tell me she’s getting married. All I kept thinking was even though she is no longer a 3 year-old toddler, or a a 5 year-old starting her first day of kindergarten—either way, she will always be my baby girl.