You know a friend I deeply respect has noted the importance of journaling right now. It's so damn hard to even think of writing when you're in a bog of housework, work work, child work. Like, it feels like a luxury to memorialize your thoughts, if you can even form sentences.
So I'm taking to write when inspired and just want to say again for the people in the back that my daughter is simply amazing.
Everyone talks about this, but watching your kid try to navigate the lack of normal social interaction during this pandemic is heart wrenching. We've been doing a lot of retail therapy to fill the open spaces. But while she has some 1:1 time with a few close friends, I worry constantly about her uncanny ability to retreat. I have to force her out of the house to do things that aren't related to spending money - walks, even seeing friends, those things are often like pulling teeth.
I've been a pretty negligent parent in allowing her to stay up too late every night, even school nights, to watch old movies with me.
She's a 12 year old weirdo (y'all she turned TWELVE), much as I was in her ability to soak up black and white movies with scratchy soundtracks and thick english accents. This past week we've plowed through some Hitchcock - The 39 Steps and The Lady Vanishes. Last week we watched some Thin Man movies and my favorite noir mystery, Laura.
She LOVED Laura, and her eyes lit up when I mentioned I had a first edition of the original novel in the attic somewhere.
"I found it mom, can I take it?" she asked, around 11:15pm after we wrapped up one night last week. Sure.
I was this kid. I loved what I loved unapologetically. Is it narcissism to say I love her so fucking much?