This isn't the post I had planned for the first day of Tinniegirl's Blogtober extravaganza. I was all geared up to make it a Mocktober one but Crocktober it shall be. Crocktober as in 'crock of sh*t'.
Last night the first cracks of my broken heart began to appear.
My girl's plan to go to tonight's funfair was mangled when her friend said she did not want to meet up with Princess Curly-Wurly. Yes we have hit that stage in our lives where these girls, who have all been so close since they were four years old (or younger), are hormonal creatures trying out their teeth and talons.
My girl is sufficiently left of centre and thin-skinned that she will never be in the cool gang. I am not sure I would want her to be. But I remember the travails of teenage girldom and just wish I could take my baby forward 10 years and show her how she will blossom and survive on the other side of what is to come.