The first little traveller is the oldest child on our holiday. I hesitated for a moment before typing child, the confusion of where to place her age, the blurring of childhood to adolescence.
Thirteen is the perfect age to float.
This morning she woke me with the excitement of a child, tonight’s dinner menu had her discussing food like an adult. Pork, roasted, she’s a foodie in the making, a lover of flavours. “And then it’s chocolate soufflé for dessert”. I recognize the sparkle in her eyes, it’s Christmas morning age seven. An American Girl called Julie who until recently sat at the end of her bed. They no longer wear matching pajamas, but sometimes I notice Julie’s hair has been braided or sits high in a ponytail. She’s not completely forgotten.
After breakfast we sat side by side in chairs on the verandah. Her legs have stayed true to her godfather’s nickname. “Lizzie long legs” was then toddling poolside in Jakarta, floaties on each arm, a sun hat to match her all in one sun suit, her legs dangled over the edge of the pool. Her bikinis are now bought from beachwear chains, I watched her flick through tops and bottoms as the music blared in the background, we’re surrounded by surfboards and board shorts. I giggle with the memory of G and his innocence when it comes to his not so little girl, of not being able to see what others see as she grows. Maybe it’s denial. “Oh my gosh, look at Lizzie” a friend said as she emerged from the water on our last trip home, legs that seemed to go forever, she now has hips, and six pack abs from a long lost genetic pool that neither G or I can recall. “Look at her body” a childless friend exclaimed, perhaps not aware of the comment’s consequences. G looked over in Lizzie’s direction and agreed “Yes, she has lovely broad shoulders”. He can’t see it.
She’s been teaching me how to sit at the bottom of the pool. How to “blow out all of your breath, clench your muscles” and sink to the bottom. As we make our way down she lays on her side and shows off by resting her head in her hands at the bottom of the pool. I sit cross legged across from her, we have matching grins. She waves at me and bubbles escape from her lips. All at once she is my baby, my toddler, my child, my teen, my love.
Thirteen is the perfect age to float.
Sign up for the best bits here
Sign up for the best bits from our community of forty thousands expats. Every Saturday morning we’ll shoot you the five hottest topics from the world of expat.
As the mother of a recently turned 13 year old daughter I can totally relate – and you brought me to tears by the end. Thank you for so eloquently capturing this “half child, half adult” time in a girl’s life.
Oh goodness, just yesterday a friend and I were watching our 7-year-olds in the pool and thinking about the teen years ahead of us. Slightly fretful about it all. Look at your gorgeous child woman! xx
My eldest (boy) just turned 13 and I had similar thoughts this past week on our spring break in the Maldives. Saw glimpses of him as a toddler, the giggles and wide smiles of a little boy, the sarcastic comments of a teenager, and the beginnings of adult understandings…..
It’s the same for boys too. I look at my 13 year old “man-child” who towers over me. Thankfully he is a gentle giant who is still goofy enough to (secretly) hang on to his favourite stuffed toys, to dance crazily to many tunes on “Just Dance” and to continue to hug and kiss his Mum in public. While he still wants me to go to his school Assemblies, to watch his soccer games, to drive him places (good chance for D&M chats, in the car) I will drop everything to be that Mum. I know those days are numbered so I am savouring every single one of them.
I am on the cusp of this – my daughter has just turned twelve, has just started high school, and suddenly has a side of her life that does not involve me. She is developing independence, new friendships, and a young woman’s body, as well as eclectic taste in music (very much taking after her mum!) and a desire to be an actress (eek!). And yet, my bright eyed baby is still present, as she snuggles at night with her favourite “shiny sheet” that comforted her as a toddler. What a wondrous and emotional time it is, and what a beautiful girl you have.
I love your posts. We followed you around Sri Lanka (unintentionally in a non-stalker like fashion) with my 12yr old woman/child and 7 yr old boy (noise with dirt!). As we visited the turtles, Cinnamon Island, Fish massage farm I reflected how lucky we were to have these experiences and to witness my gorgeous children having these life enhancing moments. What a blessing.
You have such beautiful children!
I too am the mum of a 13 yr old daughter. It is such a strange time. Half child, half grown up. You captured it beautifully in your words. There is a wonderful spark in her face! She looks like she is in a happy place!
I don’t yet have kids but as a homecare Pediatrics nurse I often attend school all day with kids of various ages and developmental abilities. My favorite place this year – well one of them!- is the 8th grade lunch room. At ages 13 and now mostly 14 they are so grown, but so not grown at all. I love your metaphor of floating. It fits perfectly the way they seem to slip back and forth between big and little all in one go.
Beautiful words 🙂