Kitten Love
A few months ago we brought home two kittens as additions to our family. Because my fourteen-year-old daughter is home schooled, we made the kittens kind of a project for her, although everyone in the house shares some responsibility for the care of the cats. She is the one who got them acclimated to the house, made sure they were litterbox trained, and spends the most time playing with them.
My daughter has always been a very practical person, even from a very young age (her kindergarten teacher dubbed her an “old soul”), and she never really felt it necessary to waste a lot of emotion on past pets we had, hamsters, other cats, a dog, that have all, for one reason or another (most often natural causes), left us.
The other day, while she was on the floor playing with the kittens, she said, “If someone came in our house and tried to hurt our cats, I would throw myself in front of them and make sure I got hurt instead. If something ever happened to our cats, I don’t know what I would do with myself.”
I watched her, stretched out on the floor, so grown up now at 14, so different from the little girl–from the baby–I remember. Sometimes I marvel at the woman she is growing up to be. I have enjoyed every stage of her life and every changing relationship with her that I’ve had.
A few years ago while taking a family communication class at CSUS, a light bulb went on when the instructor told the class that families aren’t static, never staying the same. As children grow, the need for rules and their responsibilities change, and thus, the way we interact and the relationships we have with our children change too. What toddlers need from their parents and what teenagers need, and eventually adults, is not the same, and the way they need to interact with us changes as they do.
This usually happens so slowly over time, I imagine most of don’t take stock. I know I probably wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for that light bulb day. And although as parents we are aware that this happens–raising a family is a journey–it is not always an easy fact to wrap your arms around when you are thick in the day-to-day and every tiny step.
I know my relationship with my daughter is changing now; it is exciting, and it is scary. We watch our children grow and slowly untether themselves from that connection they used to long for. I know I will always be close to my daughter–I will make sure of that–but I can’t help wonder what that will look like as she grows.
As I continued to watch her play with the kittens and express such deep love for them that their well-being was far more important to her than her own, I knew one thing in our relationship would never change–that feeling.
“I know what you mean,” I simply replied to my daughter, “I know what you mean.”