My Nearlynonteen had his butterfly moment today. That moment when he finally spread his wings, ready to fly. He had the first of his A level exams this afternoon, and by ten o’clock this morning he was pacing the floor with a major case of nerves. He has worked hard for this, condensing two years work into one, and juggling two jobs at the same time. So those wings were spreading already. But today he was angry. With his friends, who hadn’t bothered to study, who couldn’t understand why he was so concerned about doing well. That’s when I knew the butterfly moment had arrived.
Darling Daughter took herself off to Nepal for six months when hers struck, to live up a mountain in the middle of nowhere, with a family who spoke no english, to teach sexual health to teenagers. Loved it so much she did the same thing in Cambodia the following year!! Eldest Boy went to Uni, moved in with his girlfriend, ignored all those who said “It will never last!!” and ten years later the two of them are still blissfully happy and having a ball!!
Mine was at seventeen, when I left home, moved to Edinburgh, and had the most amazing two years of my life!! The Eighties were a good time to be a teenager, and a hairdresser to boot!! I spent half my time in London, did hair shows in the States, prepared models for photo shoots, and partied like there was no tomorrow!! I met my Bestest Friend Ever, and was still with my Torn-Apart. I could run in ridiculously high heels, and dyed my hair a different colour every week. I lived every second of it, let the sun shine on my wings.
So the Mum in me felt a pang when I realised that he was going to fly. But the rest of me thought “Yes!!” Because I want him to relish his butterfly moment, every damn second of it!!!
P.S. Just thought you might get a bit of a chuckle from these photos!! Looking at them, I was less of a butterfly, more of a Death’s Head moth!! It was the Eighties, that is my only defence!!