Tonight, my daughter is having a sleepover with a friend. It’s not her first sleepover. She’s had several this year. But this pang in my heart, loss of breath in my lungs, gets no easier with time.
I worry about her, miss her laugh, and wish to hold her while she’s gone.
It’s not any different from the first time she slept through the night with no need for milk or snuggles at three a.m.. And just like when she didn’t need me to catch her at the bottom of the playground slide anymore.
I’m sure it’ll be the same or harder when she goes on her first date, drives the car alone with her new licence, or moves into her first apartment.
Little by little, she grows up and away.
And bit by bit, I have to let go.
Knowing this, I look forward to tomorrow when she sails through the front door sharing sleepover stories about the brownies they baked and the front walkover she finally had the courage to complete. I’ll bend to smell her coconut shampoo.
At least for now, she still lets me brush her hair.
Photo by Daria Shevtsova from Pexels
Danielle Dayney 
They are so precious, and our real time with them so short.
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So true.
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My mother told me when I was a pre-teen that parenting me was 80% worrying and 20% housework. I can feel in your words here that you’re on the verge. She is one lucky kid to have such a loving mother.
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Thank you, Nate. You have no idea how much that means to me. ❤️
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And your mom sounds like a smart and loving woman ❤️
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Danielle, this is lovely. I remember where you are, and it’s just as you say. I will say though that now that I’m on the other side, I’m loving this stage too. In a few years, when she’s not rushing back to you as quickly, remind yourself that there are good things to come. Also, I love the photo!
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Thanks, Margaret!
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Awww. This hit home with me for sure. I have a 10-year-old and I find myself trying to spend as much time with her as much as possible, knowing a day will come when she’d rather hang with her friends. For now, anyway, she still wants to hang out with me.
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My oldest has always been so independent. It wasn’t until this year at eight when she finally chose me over dad to cuddle with.
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I was thrilled by the first sleepover. ME TIME. I mean, knowing I’d see my boy again the next day made it nice for me. I didn’t have a hard time with independent milestones until he left for college but maybe I’m weird.
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Maybe I’ll feel different with the second child? I never have “me time” except at five in the morning while I write and drink my coffee, lol.
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