Saturday, June 5, 2010

Metamorphosis

Spring is my favorite time of year. The birds are singing, flowers blooming, shorts come out of the closet, and my baby has a birthday.

Last years birthday made me cry, this year is leaving me stunned. My sweet little girl will be 17. Holy shit batman! Sometimes it seems like only yesterday the doctor was holding her up for me to see for the first time, other times it seems impossible that I have only loved her for 17 short years, I feel she has always been a part of me.

Some people are born to do great things, travel to exotic places, cure diseases, bake the worlds best cookies, color inside the lines. Me, I was born to be Mo’s mom. I’m really, really good at it too, just ask her.

These teenage years have not been a walk in the park for either of us. Sometimes I’m sure she is trying to see exactly what it will take to make me lose my last thread of sanity. Other times I think she is my last thread of sanity.

My baby loves the arts. She is gifted with a beautiful voice, she recently sang live on a local radio station with her Daddy playing guitar for her. She is amazing. Mo is also quite the theatre geek. She loves drama- imagine that if you will- a teenage girl who loves drama.



Mo was recently in a play at school called Metamorphosis, one of those Greek mythology things. All the kids were amazing, but I couldn’t take my eyes off my girl. She had two parts, sleep and gaunt hunger. Sleep was good, just enough of Mo’s humor to make it good. As gaunt hunger she was amazing. My beautiful baby was dressed in black rags, her hair was in her eyes and she clawed her way across the stage on all fours looking for her prey. She was creepy, totally in character.




As I watched I thought the play was aptly named and chosen. This was the advanced theatre class so all juniors and seniors and we parents have watched our kids morph into the adults they are becoming.

Mo’s first performance, she was a sunbeam, in a pretty brown and yellow dress, dancing in the wrong direction and singing Zipadee Do Da so loud you couldn’t hear the other kids. The video is unwatchable, I laughed until I cried and the camera shook like we were in an earthquake. Especially when Mo danced the wrong way for the third time and the little boy she kept running into shoved her across the stage.




This time was different. Her first performance was full of little girl sunshine and giggles this performance was dark and seemed perfect for this time in her life when she is in the dark, struggling to become an adult, to find her place to shine.





And shine she did. My baby is maturing in ways I hadn’t expected and didn’t see until I saw her crawling across that stage becoming someone else. Mo is good, she throws herself into her performances and doesn’t come up for air.

I wish I had her balls, she gets that from her Dad, but that smile, that’s all her Momma.

4 comments:

  1. Oh my beautiful caring friend, there is so much more of you in her than your smile! Parenting is my hardest but favorite job. We do what we can with what we have and what we know. You are a great Mom and have done an awesome job with her. We teach them and give them the tools to become who they are, even if we don't like some of it:) You have every right to be proud!

    Love ya both!!!!

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  2. Oh, Sweetie! I love, love, LOVE this post! Mo looks like a sweet little chrysanthemum in that photo...soooo sweet. And the metamorphosis? You weren't kidding...what a beautiful, talented woman she has become. 17! Couldn't you die?

    How IS it that they've become older...yet we've managed to stay exactly the same??

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  3. When my son turned 40 two years ago, I really wondered what had happened to the beautiful little boy. He's still in there. Being a mother has been the most rewarding thing in my life until I became a grandma. Believe it or not, that's even better! (Plus you can send them home!) Gorgeous post, Carol. I love it!

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  4. Our kids are our hearts. If they do terrible it rips us up inside, if they do wonderful our hearts soar unbelievably. The hard part is understanding that as they age what they accomplish is more and more of them and less and less of us. But that's the way it's supposed to be.....but we can still claim credit for it.

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