“Where was my crazed foot-stomping, giggling monster?”

I thought she had forgotten our little games. ‘No I love YOU’ (I then must reply ‘No, I love YOU’) this repeats until we are almost shouting ‘NO! I LOVE YOU!’ five-year-olds love an emotional juxtaposition! The child went away with her dad for five days, when she returned she was different, so grown up. She didn’t seem like my child at all. I guess she’d spent time with older cousins with whom she wanted to impress.

“Where was my crazed foot-stomping, giggling monster?”

She left as a five-year-old and returned as a serene 11-year-old. Where was my crazed foot-stomping, giggling monster? I almost missed the tantrums over winter flip-flop wearing…She seemed to have forgotten how we interact. All our nonsense forgotten. All our constant ‘I love yous’. I almost cried when she didn’t seem to want to hold my hand anymore. I wondered if her dad is too tall to walk hand-in-hand with her, or if car journeys had got her out of the habit? I felt like I was grieving something. Suddenly there was this older girl, independent with no need for me. A mother can handle their child growing up and detaching when it’s gradual, but for it to seemingly happen in five days, it was a bit of a shock!
After her father left, my little girl cried for hours, wearily weeping his name from her bed. Her eyes inflamed from hours of tears. I tried to reassure her but nothing I did or said helped.

I’ve never had that before. No one has ever hurt my child before where I couldn’t offer a solution and fix it. If she cries from bashing her knee on the table: “Naughty table! We’ll move it!” If someone is mean to her at school, I can turn it around with talking. But this, her dad returning to work in Hong Kong, is something I can’t fix. Giving her the emotional tools to deal with it isn’t easy. People suggested she’d toughen up, I don’t want her to have to.

I rang her dad to talk to her, he was boarding his plane, he said he would be back soon, she asked: “How many sleeps?” He replied: “90”. Not exactly a quantifiable number to a small child. Neither of us could reassure her. She just couldn’t understand her feelings. She was in pure pain. Us adults knew it was just a visit, but it felt confusing and painful for a five-year-old. I almost felt bad for allowing her to get close to him, as if I had set her up for a fall.

As I knew he would be returning to his job abroad. Such is mothers guilt.
If it rains that’s my fault too. Of course I must help her have a relationship with her father but how do I ensure she doesn’t feel pain like that again?
I hope growing up doesn’t have to be ‘toughening up’.