Already?

I thought that I was safe from this feeling for at least another nine or ten years. But no, it seems that I was wrong, and that heartache is mine already.

Last Sunday I went to the Sunday evening service at church. Now in the mornings Sweetpea goes to Sunday School and I go to the worship service, so the idea of having her sitting with me at the night service was one that I was actually looking forward to. All the way to church Sweetpea was chattering away in the back seat about how her Sunday school teacher is her best friend, and would she be there tonight? Obviously I had no idea and couldn’t answer her, so there was great rejoicing when she saw Rosita in the main hall before church started. There was numerous cuddles and telling Rosita what we had done during the day and then the question that felled me.

“Can I sit with you?”

Such an innocent question. I laughed, because I didn't really expect Sweetpea to want to sit with Rosita if I went to another area of the church to sit. I honestly thought that she would follow me (after a moment’s hesitation of course) and sit with me. I hate sitting in the crowded part of the church, I like to sit apart. Not because I don’t like people, but because I suffer dreadful claustrophobia and cannot stand the idea of being trapped. Heaven knows I've tried to sit with other people to try and make friends, but the panic rises in me in every growing waves and I cant breath, the world swims before my eyes and I end up biting my bottom lip until it bleeds in an effort to cope with my discomfort, and I hear absolutely nothing of the service. I thought that Sweetpea would follow me to the safety of my back row where I can escape if I need to and be happy. I was wrong. Sweetpea happily tripped after Rosita without giving me so much as a backward glance.

I spent the first ten minutes of the service feeling the hot salty sting in my eyes as I came to the realisation that my three and a half year old child would rather sit with her Sunday school teacher than me. That she is already exerting her independence. I felt ridiculous to be fighting back the tears... but there I was, none the less, begging God to stop me from crying, because I didn't want to make a scene or have anyone notice that I was crying. My biggest fear if someone had seen me cry was what would I say to their questioning? “My daughter *sniff* loves her Sunday school teacher *snuffle* more than me... boo-hoo-hooooooooooo!”? But I can’t tell you how it ripped my heart out to watch her talking with Rosita, swaying with the music and then cuddling into her during the sermon.

At one point Rosita sent Sweetpea to me and my heart soared to the heavens. Thoughts raced through my head as she ran along the back walkway to my open arms - she did love me, she missed me and wanted to sit with me after all. No. She needed to go to the toilet. And after taking her, she did not want to sit with me again. She sobbed when I tried to take her to my seat. Her little face scrunched up in a ball of grief and her eyes spilt tears of frustration. So with a heavy heart, I sent her off to go and sit with Rosita once again.

I have always known that one day she would spread her wings and fly. I've always known that if I do my job well, she will grow up confident in her abilities and want to fly the nest and it will be a sign of a job well done if she leaves me to go and forge relationships on her own terms. I just didn't expect it so soon.