iPhone post

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Today the munchkin and I were out and about (Wednesday half-day).

She made me burst with pride when she looked at the cathedral spire and said: it's so beautiful, mummy. I have loved that damn spire since I was a kid myself, and always remember looking for it on the Antwerp skyline.

And then she stopped and said: I hear music. The Christmas merry-go-round is back in place for the next four weeks, so we promptly bought tickets and for the first time in her short life, she did not complain that the music was scary and sat on one of the horses. And I, I was proud to sit next to her.

This is the golden age, I am sure.

The why phase

The munchkin's hit the why phase; she's a bit slow on the uptake (only two questions in one week), but the ones she does ask are deep.

Tonight's serving: mummy, why do we eat?

I have to admit I was somewhat stumped for an answer. Funnily enough, my first answer was not, because we love to, but rather, because we need fuel, much like a car. So we can jump, dance, learn, you name it.

Amazing.

The end of an era in childhood

The munchkin has dumped the stabilisers and can now bike independently. All in one afternoon.
My little girl is growing in front of me.

Only a few more weeks and she will be four!

Just to reminisce: this was the past.

Growing up together...

It's been a tough two weeks on mother and daughter. Our mite had just finished school at the end of June, only to be tossed straight into hospital for ear surgery. Then, nary a week later, thanks to her two working mums, the poor kid was sent to day camp.

As the days went by, mothers and daughter became increasingly unhappy with the situation, with the mite begging, nay, even clinging to our legs, dragging on the floor, as we walked towards the exit, to stay home with us.

And so the days of doubt started: every party around the breakfast table dreaded that inevitable move towards the upstairs for bath and clothes and then of course bike or car to ... camp. It started to give me headaches. I couldn't sleep for worry; the munchkin started to get black circles under her eyes. I was contemplating telling all my customers to go stuff themselves for two months. Then I would routinely run into other mothers with a guilt-ridden conscience on playdates, who were having an equally bad time of it. We started to question ourselves. We started to think of ourselves as those bad mommies. I had nightmares about emotional scarring and being told 14 years from now, during a row, that it was all my fault for sending her to day camp when she was 3.5.

And then today came: last day at music camp. A performance. A smiling star of the show, entertaining a crowd of a 100 or so parents, together with her old and new friends. And then the discovery that the camp actually keeps a photo blog. And my mini WonderWoman actually seemed to be having fun. In fact, I was dumbfounded by the discovery. As I tried to put two and two together, I asked myself whence this sudden onset of separation anxiety? Whence the Oscar-meriting performances of abandoned child of the year?

Regardless, it has been a draining two weeks. And because we are true masochists, we are subjecting ourselves to another week of this medicine. Same people who organised the last week's camp, which the munchkin seems to have enjoyed more than the first week. The theme: A voyage of discovery. And likewise one for mothers and daughter, who discovered over the last two weeks that they can be quite brave when they need to. But who still feel the need to be joined at the hip... until my last, dying breath...

Visual connection

Only Nijinsky did not require a trampoline.

Photographer in the making

The munchkin took this photo on her most recent visit to the zoo with a friend's digital camera.