Growing Up...Kind Of.

Our youngest is growing right up. Kind of.
She, out of all our girls, has had the most peculiar phobias. Over the past several years I have found myself staring at her, wondering just what celestial orbit she ascended from. But I do adore her...phobias and all. When she was a toddler it began with people. She just didn't like them. All people in general...she wasn't partial. She was adorable and looked so approachable with her luscious black curls. Looks can be deceiving. My hip was her main mode of transportation (for five years or so...give or take). And being at just the right height on my hip, many an unsuspecting adult would reach out to touch those curls and say hello. Her response was always the same...a few grunts and a dramatic bodily shake. I feared for their fingers. It was rather embarrassing at the time. For me. Doubtful it was for her. She's since grown out of that stage. Kind of. Now she just pleasantly ignores them. Baby steps to social appropriateness. Her most favorite people she will answer an asked question. But it's not her favorite. Which is odd, because at home we can't get her to stop talking and goofing off.
Next came the bathroom phobia. She absolutely detested public restrooms. If it was a multi-stall bathroom...forget it. Her bladder of steel would wait until we arrived back home. I've seen many a tear shed in a bathroom stall. So worried that someone per chance might peek under, over or through the door. Now...I guarantee this has never happened. But her mind has foretold her that at any given point in her life this is bound to occur. And so, I have been her bathroom buddy everywhere we've gone. And if company should come over, as well. We've been a lavatory tag team of sorts. She's since grown out of that stage. Kind of. Now I just have to stand outside of the stall or door and promise ten times that I will remain there until she completes her task. I've moved up in the world...I'm now a bathroom bouncer. I figure by the time she's ready to marry it won't be an issue. Fingers tightly crossed.
The newest issue has been over the past several months. She's terrified to venture upstairs alone. You see, all of our bedrooms are up there. Just bedrooms. All other living space is downstairs...where the whole family usually is. However...all of her toys are up there. And for some reason she's convinced that at any given moment there might be a stranger up there awaiting her arrival. It confounds me where these ideas come from. Anyways, in order to get to her toys she has lured her sisters to tag along; bribed the dog up with a bone, pleaded with me to wait at the base of the stairs and talk continuously to her...anything so that she hasn't had to go alone. But, as with all her other little phobias, she's since grown out of that stage. Kind of. She now will travel upstairs alone. She's just installed newer tactics. Sometimes she'll sing real loud, but most of the time she will whistle. Apparently it scares away anyone that ought not to be up there. But tonight....tonight she decided to divide and conquer. She held her own little intervention of sorts while I was preparing dinner. "Mom...I'm going to go upstairs all by myself. Without whistling," she proudly declared. Up went my eyebrows. "Really? Well, go get 'em girl!" And up she went. Whistle-free. But I do have to say I heard some nondescript mumbling happening up there. But, hey...it's progress. And progress on her terms. So I shan't complain.
Growing right up, she is. Well....kind of.