Crying child - sadness
Are you still my friend, I asked my son, my only son.
Yes, of course, he immediately answered.
Are you just saying that to please me, I informed?
He did not answer.
I miss the time you held my hand, I said after a long pause.
I think my son is still my friend he says I am the only one he can talk to. It's not that we always share the same interests or same opinions but there's no need to. At times he asks me and believes I know everything (what is taught at school included) which I don't. There's no longer a need to search for answers or to pretend. I just say that I don't know. It's easier plus it saves me time.
On the other hand, he seems to forget I am older and know how to live, stay alive, brush my hair and clean my shoes, how to empty the vacuum cleaner.
Let's go to Malta or Spain for a weekend if... I suggest. I miss traveling and this time it's a yes. For years I travelled with children, even if they were still babies. They say they can hardly remember those days which is a pity. A good thing is I made photos. I suggest having a look at them so the memories will come back to them.
Watching old photos feels like watching someone else's life if you cannot remember those days, the fun you had.
The youngest says she never was a happy child which isn't true. I pinned the drawings she made above her bed. The drawings are happy and so is the face of the little child she once was. I show her the pictures and tell her to look at that happy face and remember she was a happy child even though she never liked cuddling too much.
Preschool wasn't fun, elementary school either. I do not know what always happened but the youngest said she will never visit that school again or a school reunion. She hopes she never meets her former classmate again. These are the words of the best pupil in the class.
A few days ago the youngest cried. It's frustrating if you only study or travel and have no time to relax. It feels as if the child is close to burnout.
Back home after 8 pm, next dinner, a few hours of homework, and to bed around or after midnight. What kind of childhood is that?
The lessons are boring, there's hardly thought anything so school is still considered a waste of time.
The teacher forces her into participating in all kinds of contests and projects which consumes a lot of time.
We had the 'I am ugly and fat' period just like the 'bad clothes and bad hair days'. Most problems are solved. I introduced her to the type of skirts she should wear and wearing trousers is history.
That pullover you are wearing I would never buy, I tell her, but you look great in it. She does and it doesn't cost much to give a well-meant comment.
This morning we had to visit the bank. I gave the bank employee the received letter.
I can't read English she said.
I told her the letter said my child has to show up with her ID because of terrorism. The word terrorism did the trick. The employee grinned. As if terrorists would take such a bank account.
It took ages, the tablet did not agree with my child's handwriting (give me a break a child's handwriting changes and won't remain like a six-year-old). The bank employee had to print the papers but the nationality was wrong (come on Dutch ID means Dutch nationality).
She missed the bus to school so we decided to have a look at lipgloss, lipstick, glue because the brand new expensive shoes already fall apart, and some chocolate.
I gave her some manga books and bought a cute wrapping paper for my other daughter.
A happy child left, a happy but tired child. She did not sleep well, not long enough and therefore I told her not to get out at 5 am but at 8:30 am instead.
Stretched out in bed is always better than walking over the marketplace in the dark and waiting in a cold car till the bank is open.
I keep my finger crossed that this punctual, trying to be perfect and the best student will start enjoying life and takes the rest she needs before it's too late.
With some luck, school will send her to Barcelona for two weeks to work and she can work for three months in Germany. A new environment can do one good which is what she needs.