Snapshot #1

A neighbour turned 11 and invited Owain, yes 3-year-old Owain to his birthday barbecue. Benjamin and Owain are best of playground mates - Owain having charmed the 11-year-old boy who looks out for him at the playground, buys him lollies etc.

Half the neighbourhood was there at the barbecue and we had a nice time chatting with our neighbours. The kids, wet from the pool, swarmed around snatching bites from the grill while playing "Freeze N Melt" (aka tag).

When we were leaving, I spotted Gillian sitting quietly in a corner talking to an older boy. Something about the scene made me do a double-take. I didn't quite recognise the girl sitting there as the daughter I knew. Sitting there, legs crossed, chatting, laughing, face rosy from the heat was a half-child, half-woman, poised right on the cusp of change. Facing her was a good-looking, attractive teen. They were clearly enjoying each other's company. It was all innocent and yet, alarm bells rang.

One part of me yelled: but she's only 11! Another just sighed.

It had already begun - the peeling off of childhood skin and the newness of adolescence. She's oblivious to it all of course. But then, I am her mother, years ahead of her on the well-trodden road of growing up. I have been there, done that and I guess maybe it is the sensitivity and the intuition of women and mothers that let me see this.