Emily and boys. no, this is nothing new…but it still throws me for a loop every time i answer the phone and there’s a boy on the other end, stuttering his way through a very meek “Can i please talk to Emily?”

i’m not ready for this. i’m not ready for this. i’m not ready for this.

“Just what are your intentions with my daughter?” i say

“Um, what are intentions? um, this is Ethan. we are in the play together? can i just talk to Emily?”

blast.

Ethan. i know nothing about this Ethan! It’s scary to think that my daughter (or any of my children) have social lives that don’t include me. She has friends she hangs out with at school, jokes around with, gossips with, tells her secrets to…and not only are none of these people ME, but i don’t know any of them.

and i know nothing of this Adam who just this week sent MY Emily a letter shaped like a heart that had a lovely little ‘Adam Hearts Emily” written on the front of it. (GAH! are you dying from all the shmaltz?!?!)

blast.

love letters! my baby girl is getting love letters. i’m not ready for this. i’m not ready for this. i’m not ready for this.

for the ooey, gooey crushes. but with most ooey, gooey crushes, come the broken hearts.

How do you prepare your children for heartache?

Recently, Emily tried out for the school play, Mamma Mia. She’s been watching the movie on repeat and bouncing around the house with her ipod earbuds fused to her ears. She’s been reading and re-reading the script. She knows the entire thing by heart. She’s an actress, my child. and she’s good. she’s really good. but, at the end of the day, she’s only 7 and she’s competing for roles with girls who are 9, 10, 11, 12. Even a good second grader is not going to get the role of Sophie. She’s just not.

but, am i supposed to discourage her from trying out for it? am i supposed to urge her to choose a smaller role, one she is more likely to get? and am i doing this because *I* don’t want to deal with her disappointment when she comes home sophie-less????

i’m not ready for this. i’m not ready for this. i’m not ready for this.

last night she got her part…i can’t even remember the name (read: NOT SOPHIE)…but, the director, god bless him, gave Miss Emily a SOLO. a bloody solo. The Winner Takes it All. He says to me, “Your daughter is very talented. she has a beautiful singing voice!”

“She does?” i say. i mean, i like her voice, mostly, but I AM HER MOTHER. i think she’s practically perfect in every way. or most ways, at least. i could do without the bitchiness and the angst. ohmygoodgod, the angst.

“You didn’t know that? i wouldn’t give a second grader a solo if i didn’t think so!! You should be very proud. i NEVER underestimate the young ones with the talent!!”

i smile and thank him. but, i know, deep down, that i’m smiling because i got off easy. Emily doesn’t even remember that she wanted to be Sophie…because she has a solo. a solo! she’s going to be singing, BY HERSELF, on a stage in front of hundreds of people. for two nights. she’s on cloud nine. and The Winner Takes it All is now on MEGA-REPEAT.

…and you thought i hated Abba before…

but what happens when i have to deal with the real disappointment?? When Ethan calls another girl? When Adam send another girl an Adam hearts _____? When she hates her body? When she’s discouraged by bad grades? When another girl makes her feel inferior? When she is utterly heartbroken by her part in a play??

most days i just want to keep her in the bubble where everything is rainbows and unicorns and she’s a dance teacher and Wall.E appears from outer space…