The Princess and I are tucked up on the couch watching "Anne of Green Gables." We are having the evening version of a sick day. She spent the day part on her dad’s sofa while I attended a Church and Ministry retreat and meeting; tomorrow I will stay home with her.
There is a terrible bug going around Renowned Middle School. We are just two days behind. It all began with a middle of the night bout of vomiting. Poor Princess has been without food since dinnertime last night, and is only managing little sips of liquid and crushed ice.
Anne is in crisis, sent to her room over the loss of Marilla’s brooch. How will she ever make a friend if she doesn’t go to the Sunday School picnic?
The Princess worries that her illness will mean she cannot go to the school dance on Friday evening.
(I’m not sure this would be all bad.)
Anne imagines herself in Camelot. She thinks up a good confession and makes it as interesting as she can. She was my mother’s favorite heroine.
I wonder if girls of 11 or 12 or 13 don’t always need to oppose someone they perceive as difficult? Marilla is kind but stern. I send The Princess to bed when she wants to stay up, and insist on a little less eye-rolling. Do we need this?
Gilbert is winking at Anne in the schoolroom and calling her Carrots, and she is breaking a slate over his head!!!
Emo Boy teases The Princess at school. She tells me he flirts with everyone. These are the days when teasing means everything. Does it make her mad, or does she take it in stride? Who is my girl when she talks to a boy? What part does she imagine herself playing?
I’m learning my new role in her life, just as I am learning a new role in my own. I’m glad I have an imagination, a creative urge to reinvent and reframe and revisit and revamp my understanding of myself–and of my daughter.