They grow up so fast


The other day, Moogle brought home a consent form from school for an upcoming school trip to an Under-10 theme park.  Parents are not invited (sob!) and the class will be going there and back on a coach.

I really didn’t want to sign that form.

I’m not being tight with money (we only have to pay £10).  I’m not trying to deny my child any fun.  The truth is, I’m scared.

I don’t like the idea of my little baby travelling for hours away from home and going to a theme park (even if the rides are designed for tiny people!)  What if the coach crashes? What if she gets lost?  What if she’s ill?  WIll she be alright without Mummy there to protect her?  Do I really trust anybody to look after my daughter the way that I would?

I may have mentioned before that I’m a bit of a worrier.  The fact is, my children bring out the worst in me.  I’m consumed with thoughts of the terrible things that might befall them while I’m not watching.  I even struggle when they’re with my parents or sisters, who practically co-raised them but still get told to drive carefully whenever they pick my girls up.

And don’t even think about spontaneously changing plans and leaving them with a sitter.  How would I ever live with myself if something happened to one of them when they were supposed to be with me?

And this is just the start.   For now, it’s a school trip – soon they’ll be asking to go into town with their mates, dating and eventually learning to drive and moving out.  I’ll spend every single day drowning in a sea of worry and jumping everytime the phone rings.

But what choice do I have?  I can’t stop them growing up.  I can’t freeze time and keep them safe in my arms forever.

And I can’t wrap them up in cotton wool and hide them away from the perils and pitfalls of real life.  I just have to love them as hard as I can, teach them to make good decisions and pray that the world is kind to my little girls.

So, I’ve signed the form and paid the fee and now I’ll just sit back and hold my breath until she gets home safely.

I guess that’s just the curse of motherhood…

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