Recently I’ve begun to wonder when I started doing all of that blinking.
I don’t know if it was lost somewhere in the whirlwind of getting married, or the busy nature of day-to-day life at the moment, but it suddenly feels like four-year-old Eden doesn’t need me any more.
Of course, I’m cognisant of the fact that I’m just being emotional and she still very much needs me to tell her not to jump on the couch or she’ll go through the window, or that the noise outside at night is just our dog Ernie chewing on a toy.
But nevertheless, she’s displaying more signs of independence by the day.
The first time I really noticed it was when she stopped letting me pour her drinks.
She grabbed the milk off me in a huff, twisted the lid off herself and went about filling her cup.
I was impressed. Nervous about the state of the floor afterwards, but still impressed.
Next it was her clothes.
Eden now dresses herself, head to toe, and most of the time selects the outfits as well.
Her fashion sense is probably on a par with mine anyway, but I can’t even offer her a jacket without being told “I’ve got it, Dad”.
The last straw was during a bedtime routine this week.
Eden demanded a shower rather than a bath, and one-year-old Bonnie was happy to join her.
After they had their fill of “making potions” with the expensive body wash and a bucket, I collected Bonnie in her towel and took her to the lounge.
Before I could wrestle her into her nappy and turn around to get Eden, there she was tottering along behind me wrapped in her own towel and halfway dry.
Apparently I had not returned quick enough for her liking, so she turned the taps off, towelled herself down and came out to get dressed for bed.
I couldn’t believe it — she’d done such a good job turning off the taps that the shower wasn’t even dripping.
She’ll be driving herself to school before I know it, at this rate.
Tyler Maher is the editor of the News
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