A Mother's love.

A mother's love is a remarkable thing to behold isn't it? It will protect and teach, help and comfort, fight to the death even, and sometimes it will take a teenage daughter out for a hot chocolate on a friday afternoon.
I'm not a bit girlie, not a flutter do I feel as I wander past the cosmetics stalls in a posh department store . Shoes hold no excitement for me unless they are really comfy and I got them cheap. My hair gets cut when I just can't avoid it a moment longer and I'm being mistaken for a wild sheep walking on two legs around Sainsbury's. ( back off farmer Bill, I'm avoiding going into town on wednesdays which is market day for fear of being auctioned off, I suspect I would fetch a good price though, as no need for fattening up )
Anyway, my point is , it's a constant mystery to me then, that my daughter is the epitome of girlieness, since the age of two she has swooned at nail varnish, positively croons over clothes, make-up is her lifeline and is vital to her very existance. Her topics of conversation are solely concentrated around clothes, people( and of course what they were wearing) and hmmmmmm, actually that might be it, or it could be that my brain shrivels and can't take in any other subjects that might be levelled at me.
So then, today after a day of watching my girl HELP AROUND THE HOUSE, yes that's right, help around the house. Properly, not quietly and at times a little vocally but she did it and she actually suggested that she do it ( yes alright money was mentioned but we'll take what we can get, while we can get it!) I left the boys with H and Sophie and I went to town. Ugh. I had the great idea of avoiding the shops ( and therefore the requests for thoroughly inappropriate clothing items such as no sensible and caring mother would ever be able to bring herself to buy for her teenage daughter) and heading for the rather grand Coffee shop upstairs in one of the nicer shops. Hoorah, good wheeze, we had a lovely time. The heavy caramel and chocolate shortbread chosen by Sophie wasn't even a match for her verbal skills and she managed to talk to me throughout.
Actually, we walked through the posh shop and saw they had a sale on and so, in a fit of mother/ daughter bonding, we had Sophie's boobs measured.
I am kind and motherly enough not to divulge the actual measurements but suffice to say they are substantial and to be envied by many.( and totally different in size than we had imagined and believed!!) On sale, down from £25 to £5 we found her some beautiful and perfectly fitting, over shoulder boulder holders and she looks all held in and supported, but still a bit sexy, which is frightening for me but glorious for her.
I kind of loved all this and whispered to myself that mothers get to do this with their girls. Lucky us.
I loved it when she asked which bra she could have and I said both, I loved it when she said she loved me, I loved it when she tried to get more stuff when she saw that she was onto a good thing but didn't make a fuss when I smiled and walked on by.
I even loved it, in a masochistic way, that she never shuts her mouth, not even to gather breath it would seem. This girl can talk, really talk without saying anything memorable. I truly tried today to hold onto one particular stream of chat that came out ( because it was worthy of a script at best and my blog a close second) but my mind just couldn't do it, it has trained itself ( in manner of self preservation) to switch off and tell itself to sleep, sweet mind, sleep.
All Sophie's friends have cool names, that aren't names. Coca is one ( boy) Poyner another ( boy) Comedy ( boy also, and immediately apparant why when seen in the flesh, ) Dove ( perhaps he is a peacemaker, though I suspect not.)and she tells me all about them, or should I say what they say to her and about her.
"Ha! Poiner says that he likes me, I like him but he went off with this other girl so he can just forget it because I am so not hanging around waiting for him to get to me and anyway I am beginning to like Coca even more he's lush not everyone says he is good looking but he says I am good looking and I think he is good looking they all worry when I am quiet and I say that I can be quiet sometimes but they don't believe me and if I am quiet they all turn down the music and tell me to talk because they say it so doesn't feel right when I am quiet ahh bless Dove he is so kind he thinks I am way funny Katie says her boobs are the same size as mine but they so aren't and she lies about everything not that she ever comes out anymore because she lives with her boyfriend now and he's 24 and she just sits in her house because he lives at her house and then when he comes home she goes out with him can you imagine letting me live with a 24 year old at our house? I can't believe her parents let him live there and..........."
Wobbly brain, shaky brian,( oops there's that brian again, so much more 'me' than a brain I think) throbbing ears and happy soul. I am always exhausted when I have had one on one with Sophie but for all her horrible moments she is still so incredibly sweet at times.
And to think she could be in Utah at brat camp now if I had sent her when they kept calling me, she could be sitting in a stone circle, not wearing make up and learning to appreciate me.
Huh, I bet she appreciates 2 new bras and a chocolate caramel shortbread a whole lot more. I shall grasp onto today and hang out for the day she has her first child. Then she will appreciate me. If it's a girl and it's like her, she will fall to her knees and bless my name!