My (not so) Little Pretty One....

Things have gotten quite exciting in my neck of the woods, as of late (refer to the 'Sisterhood' episode for clarification, if necessary...). One week ago, nature sent a little 'wake-up' call that girlhood was on its way out. I anticipated *that* happening, and dealt with it quite nicely- thank you very much. Getting the second 'memo' about the imminent transformation to teenhood, however, was a bit harder for me to deal with.

It is pretty much known that I'm not a big participant in the whole 'beauty thing'. I believe in the concept of daily showering/hair-washing/deodorant applying. I prefer my soap to be Crabtree and Evelyn, but good 'ol Pantene from Costco will do for hair. I like to finish up my little "beauty routine" with a light coat of Clinique lipstick (Black honey- most popular sheer they sell), and my ubiquitous ponytail. Oh... and did I mention that I am on the yearly haircut plan (My Stylist reams me every year for waiting too long to come in)??? Very fuss-free, and quick!

Because Child has been raised by me, this 'hair simplicity' is what she has known her whole life. She was born with a platinum blonde mohawk, which required absolutely no help from me to stand erect (that's my girl, low maintenance from day 1!). Over the course of two years, the mohawk filled out to cover her whole head; time for the first haircut! Because she had thin, blonde hair, the solution was obvious to me; she would wear the "blonde kid haircut"!!!! The "blonde kid haircut" was a lovely chin-length bob, with a nice fringe of bangs across the forehead. If I was feeling really adventurous, the 'do could even support a little fabric bow barrette. Simple, easy,...done!

Around the age of K-5, child decided to grow-out the bangs. This was uber-cool with moi, because then she could go on my annual haircutting plan with me (woo hoo!)... By the time 2nd Grade rolled around, the bangs had caught up to the rest of the hair, and everything was 'even-steven' (agian, simple and easy). There were a few trims here and there over the next couple of years; in 4th Grade, however, she got a taste from her peers about how the other girls "rolled":

Child: "Mommy, I want side bangs."

Me: "We spent two years growing out your bangs years ago. You need to pull your hair back for Ballet/Gymnastics."

Child: (only in 4th, not quite having the 'negotiating skills' she would soon acquire)"Here, I'll draw them for you. This is what I want. All the girls have them!!!!"

(Being the artist in the family, Child sat down and drew a picture of said bangs, and passed it to me)

Me: (looking at picture, the shock of which caused me to choke on my own spit) "These will make you look like some chick that rolled out of bed (after a sleepless night), threw on a robe, and then indulged in a cup of coffee and a cig... No thanks!"

Child: "Hmmmppp" (Because back then, *I* still had the last word)

So, we coasted through 5th with the long, simple hair. In 6th Grade, however, there was a new discovery to be made- layers!

Child: "Mommy, all of the girls have layers. I want some, too!"

Mom: (refering back to previous arguments about 'keeping it simple')"You need to tie your hair back for gymnastics. Also, it's competition season, and I need to have enough length for the required bun."

Child: (slowly moving towards the realization that maybe Mommy might not be having the last word for too much longer) "HMMMPPP!"

Well, fast forward to the present- 7th Grade. It was about time for my annual haircut, and I decided to bring Child along for her, errrr... trim, as well:

Hairdresser Jackie (HJ): "What are we going to be doing today, Child?"

Child: (looking sideways at Mommy, realizing that the sneak attack would be the way to go)" I think I would like some layers"

Me: (looking over at Child, feeling a bit duped; this was not in the plan) "HJ, can you make some v-e-r-y subtle ones?"

HJ: (wanting to keep receiving the *very* generous annual tips, read my not-so-amused expression perfectly) "Sure, we can do that!"

So, Child left HJ's chair with a good amount of (mother-approved) length removed and a *few* layers. Unfortunately, no one noticed the layers, or the shorter length, and Child was not very happy.

Two weeks ago, the battle drum started up again:

Child: "Mommy, I want to get my hair A LOT shorter, and I want to get A LOT of layers."

Me: "( stony-cold stare which could be best translated as 'been there, discussed that, enough!)"

(Husband, the unfortunate victim of circumstance, happened to wander through the battlefield)

Husband: (noticing sneering Child and annoyed Wife)"What are you guys talking about?"

Child: (eager for a fresh ear, and being a 'Daddy's Girl', became re-energized) "I want to get my hair cut shorter, and get lots of layers!"

Husband: (looking at me)"So are you going to call and make her an appointment?"

Child: (Eyes popping out of skull. YESSSS... after all these years, the final word appears to be finally *hers*) "So I can, Daddy?"

Husband: "Yeah, sure"

Poor Husband glanced over in my direction, thinking that he had solved the problem (but still confused as to why my icy-glare was boring through the back of his skull...). He had only wanted to help, but had forgotten to consult with me about the 'hair master plan'. After sulking for about two days, I did the only reasonable, and right, thing; I made the appointment.

Soooo.... yesterday after school was the big day. Knowing that Child still has a tendency to want to test me when people outside of the family are present, I reviewed the game-plan with her; hair falling below the shoulders, and, yes (begrudgingly, though), some layers:

HJ: "Hi guys, you're back. Has it been a year?"

Me: (nudging Child) "Well, not for Child. Don't worry, though, I'll be sticking to my timetable (smirk) "

HJ: (looking over at Child) "What are we doing today?"

Child: (smile slowly crept across her face. eyes are darting from HJ to me)"I'd like to have my hair above my shoulders, with lots of layers."

Me: (not missing a beat, and not afraid of being 'bad mom') "The layers are fine, but we talked about the length staying below the shoulders."

Child conceeded, and the two of them went off to shampoo her luxurious, long locks for the last time. They soon returned, and HJ placed a cape around Child so they could get down to business. HJ then showed me on Child's back where the hair would fall- it looked OK. Having a bit of "over-controlling Mommy remorse", I let something slip out of my mouth that I never should have:

Me: (to a happily-cutting HJ) "Child was wanting for the layers to be noticeable. She said that last time no one could tell that they were there- including Husband."

HJ: (after dealing with boring 'ol "just a trim" me, and hearing the words noticeable and layers, a mysterious twinkle was visible in HJ's eyes) "Sure, we can do that!"

I got a bit mesmerized (read: spacey) watching the haircut. All of a sudden, I looked up, and saw HJ taking big sections of hair and cutting additional inches off the original decided upon 5 (look of surprise)! Next, I witnessed sections of hair surrounding the face being trimmed to almost chin level (blank look of horror)!! What happened next gave yield to the proverbial 'silent scream':

HJ: (appraising Child's hair from behind, thoughtfully pausing, then grabbing a big pair of hair sheers) "Because of the way her hair is, I'm going to need to take off a bit more in back to really make it noticeable."

With that, she took multiple sections of hair from the back of Child's head, and sheared another 2-3 inches off of those. Trying not to get my lip tangled in my upper braces, and grasping the arms of the styling chair (as not to spring at HJ like a caged zoo animal), I just smiled. I just smiled.

When Child realized that her hair was above her shoulders, she was thrilled. When she saw that her layers were pretty much everywhere, she was even more thrilled. While I was thrilled to know that she was thrilled, I knew that it was going to take me awhile to get used to the new young woman looking back at me.

When we arrived home, Child sprinted upstairs to show Husband her new 'do. I used that time to sort of settle my feelings on what had just transpired; I had picked up a girl from school, and had come home with a sophisticated almost-teen (I've got about three months till it's *official*, and I'm not wanting to rush that eventuality). Yep... I am (still) mourning the 'ol long-haired (unlayered) days of yore... I will be the first to admit it. I never would have guessed that the process of "letting go" of my daughter would be started by the snipets of blonde hair left behind on the salon floor.

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pads

( Note: If you are not a female, or the father of one, this installment of the blog may not be for you. You are welcomed to read on, but at your own risk of needing to put your hands over your eyes, and say "blah blah blah)

Life is pretty darn funny sometimes. Three days ago, it was pretty *funny* that I posted on FB about my daughter's interests having switched from making displays of Barbies, to creating shrines consisting of Bath and Body Works products. It was *funny* four days ago when Child's Coach and I were talking about dealing with periods as a gymnast. It was also kind of *funny* two nights ago, as I looked over at my daughter, who was sitting next to me at the dinner table (inhaling her Kraft-in-a-box), and wondered when she had 'developed' so much w/o my noticing. About thirty minutes after consumption of the mac, life took an interesting turn:

Child: "Ummm... Mommy.... can you come up here?!?!?!"

(Child and I conferred. Instructions were given, and I retreated back to 'downstairs world'. I headed into the Family Room to find Husband, who was in his usual nightly spot on the sectional)

Me: (wearing a facial expression, which could be best described as half-laughing/half-crying) "Umm.. Child just got her period...."

As Child is 12 and 3/4 years-old, I knew that this day would eventually come. Being the "Queen of Early", Child and I had started talking about this eventuality years ago. She knew the 'how', and she knew the 'why'; the only uncertain element was the 'when'.

It was nice to see that Child was pretty calm about the whole thing; *I* was the one who was an emotional wreck. My mind started processing the idea that when you're a kid who's just getting the hang of daily toothbrushing, bathing, and deodorant-wearing, *this* would add a whole new dimension to the daily routine. Not to mention nature's sick joke in giving a twelve year-old the body of a woman, but the reasoning ability/emotions of a kid ranging anywhere from 2-12, depending on the phases of the moon.

So, yesterday afternoon, I did what any Mom in my position would have done-I hit the local Walgreens. Just my luck, it was 'all hands on deck in the feminine hygiene aisle' hour. After navigating around piles of said goods on the floor, I stood there reading all of the different product descriptions, finally deciding on a good sampling to bring home. Taking my lead from Child's new interest in artistically displaying her myriad of bath products, I put a little bit of each in the prettiest basket I could find, and left it for her to discover.

I was not prepared for how the memories of my own "first time" would come flooding back. Like Child, I was also 12 and 3/4 years-old. After having been sent with an arsenal of 'products' wherever I had gone for the past couple of years, I was traveling (alone) with my Dad, empty handed when it happened. I begrudgingly confided in my Dad about what had transpired; he sent me off with enough cash to buy a box of pads and a *bonus* pack of gum. When we arrived back home, my Mom met us at the airport and was "just so excited" to hear about what had happened. For the life of me, I could not figure out the enthusiasm for something that had my guts in knots, and had me walking like a bowlegged cowboy. I found out recently from my Aunt that my Dad had been excited, too, as he had missed out on most of my "milestones", but was there for that one(Ugh- slightly awkward; Middle School and High School graduation would have been better...).

I am glad that for Child's sake, she was able to be in her own home, and to have her Mom nearby when it happened. After buying-out the hygiene display at Walgreens, I decided that I would put my own spin on a 'gift' for her. I chose a 'demented-humor' card (as that is her preference :) ), and two rockin' bottles of nail polish.

No "Red Party", or Red Velvet Cake to welcome Child into the female 'Sisterhood'; that just wouldn't be her style. Time to say goodbye to the little girl, and to watch as a new, young woman emerges on the scene... The one thing that I am sure of is that there'll *never* be a dull moment...

NOT *Your* Seventeen Magazine....

As anyone who is a regular reader of the blog knows, Child is 12 going on 13; not quite a teenager *yet*, but also not a little kid. In many different areas, I have noted that the age range of about 10-12 is a sort of island unto itself.

When Child was about 7, she was fascinated by the American Girl Dolls. Except for the high price tags on their nicely-coiffed heads, they were a pretty wholesome, and acceptable, choice. Heck, the American Girl company even put out a magazine to sort of compliment the dolls, and the idea of celebrating "girls just being girls". I previewed one of the mags, and thought it would be a lot of fun for Child to get in the mail (yes, the thrill of getting mail). So, for about three years, our mailbox was graced with this periodical on a bimonthly basis.

Two years ago, at age 10, Child sold-down her entire American Girl Doll collection at rummage. I guess that was the first clue that mags with cutesy art projects, juvenile fictional articles, and pollyannaish posters were probably on their way out. What did she do with her sizable proceeds, you ask? She ordered a bunch of stuff from PB TEEN... Yep, this was definitely the memo being sent; time to part ways with the girlishness of it all!

When I was child's age, we had two magazines to choose from as 'cool 12 year-olds': YM (Young Miss) and Seventeen. I eagerly devoured both, as a 12 year-old can't have too much information on how *do* puberty succesfully. Lots of info on zits, 80s fashions, 80s hair, and (giggle, giggle) how to get *that* guy to notice you. Pretty harmless, but also pretty brainless; but, heck, that's why girls sit in Middle School for 7 hours/day...

So, while "nerding" (hanging out in the local library with actual books, not DVDs), I decided to check out Seventeen magazine again; this time as a possible "read" for my daughter. I nestled down into my comfy upholstered library chair, and dug in...

Apparently, zits and fashions are still relevant topics for Child's age group- cool, I could dig that. Hmmmm.... table of contents stated that there was some relationship info.... that could be of interest (having read alll of the "Dear Jake" columns conscienciously, myself, once upon a time)! Time to turn to page 76....

After looking at the content on the page, I closed the mag to make sure that I was, indeed, reading Seventeen magazine... When I was 12, the relationship advice *I* read did not involve a multi-step quiz/worksheet to determine how far to go with your boyfriend. I also wasn't made privy to the *grooming habits* of the adolescent male. AND I *never* would have dreamed of sharing my story of how I tried to play footsy under the table with my BF, but instead ran my foot up the pant leg of BFs Father... Gag me with a spoon already!

When I was Child's age, info like that could not be obtained from a *teen* mag; rather, one had to actively seek-out the "good stuff". One Spring, my Mom brought me and my friend, Shari, along on one of her conferences. We were staying in a resort/hotel with a pool, so Shari and I occupied ourselves daily by swimming, and then hanging out in the gift shop. One afternoon, one of us discovered a copy of Playgirl (I will not name the corrupting influence);woo hoo- we weren't in "Teen Kansas" anymore! Having an idea that what we were looking at was a bit wrong, we hid the Playgirl inside of another (read: more appropriate ) mag, and just stared (and stared... and stared). Unfortunately, the Clerk became suspicious of us (could it have been all of the giggling/red faces/locked eyeballs), and came over to see what we were up to. We quickly disposed of the evidence, purchased two mini rubix cube keychains, and high-tailed it back to the kid-friendly pool.

My education continued the next Summer at sleepaway camp at age 13. Most of us girls were concerned about having to deal with our periods (and most of us had forgotten to bring along "stuff"), and also coming up with "code words" for body parts, as to not corrupt the younger campers (we came up with "sboobs"!!!). One girl, however, was quite a bit ahead of the rest of us. At the ripe 'ol age of 13, she had a *boyfriend* and happily shared her advanced knowledge with us. As she elaborated on things that I was in no way ready to be made aware of, I focused really hard on my two Cabbage Patch dolls waiting for me at home and tried to wish myself away from there (there's no place like home, there's no place like home..).

Child has had the benefit of growing up in a home where either Husband or I will answer any of her questions; there are no topics that you only go to Mommy for, or to Daddy for. Much to my chagrin, our local Public School has even stepped-in to make sure that Child has all the pertinent information. Until this year she pronounced the school curriculum to be a bit redundant. Time to hop aboard the HGD superhighway, folks!

This year in Human Growth and Development Class, Child announced that the kids were divided into same-sex groups. Yep, I thought, that sounds about right. Can ya imagine my surprise when Child informed me that the girls got a full play-by-play about the boys' puberty changes, and the boys about the girls' changes? As If this wasn't shocking enough to me, the darn school introduced a concept (in order to keep this blog at the PG level, let's say that it is a subject that Cialis discusses... you with me?...), but then didn't explain it. Driving home after school, Child wanted to know what all of this *stuff* was about. Ummm... ooookaaaay..... I was cool teaching her about her own changes, but I wasn't quite ready to explain the boys, errrr, developments yet (Thanks, WFBMS). Luckily, I had the road to look at (instead of my daughter's grossed-out face), and did my best...

Obviously, our kids are going to be learning quite a bit along theses lines from peers/school. It was nice to be able to escape into one of those mags, and just deal with frivolous things. I guess I am just nostalgic for the glossy, and by today's standards, innocent, teen mags of my youth. As corny as the 80s were, they were definitely not as *fast* of times as today. No temptation for this Mom to grab one of the dozens of subscription cards inside of Seventeen... I'm sure that Child will eventually see Seventeen, but it won't have the "Mommy stamp of approval" that being delivered to our mailbox would suggest. Child's interest in the macabre of Stephen King is starting to look better and better by the day...

T (family) (is) Minus One.....

Every now and then, it's a good thing when the man of the house can emerge from his "domestic cave", and hang with his fellow dudes, free of biological family members. Being that my husband lives with two human females, and one female feline, this can be a r-e-a-l-l-y nice thing...

Anyhoo.... one of Husband's partners decided to celebrate the Holiday Season by having the guys over to his lodge (named after a statuesque mammal that frequents Sarah Palin's Alaska, no less...)for some good 'ol "male bonding", and steaks (my feeling is that the food probably clinched a good turnout more than the promise of fellowship). Husband mentioned the Event to me, and asked if it was cool, which it was. Little did we know that it would become an issue with both children.

Husband is pretty much the ultimate 'family man'. He is usually "present and accounted for" at all family mealtimes, and never misses Child's Meets/Concerts/etc. Moreover, he works from home most days, so he's just a flight-of-stairs away when Child gets back from wherever. He is pretty much a fixture in the house...

So, here is how both the human child, and the fur one, dealt with the most heinous 'disturbance in the force' (Husband taking a brief leave-of-absence):

Chapter 1: Child

Child came down to breakfast around 6 AM yesterday morning. Despite the early hour, her brain was already processing what would be the deal this day:

Child: "I am not going to see Daddy until tomorrow morning!!" (Child had full day of school, then an evening practice, which would keep her out-and-about till 8:30)

Me: "Yep, that's right."

Child: (looking anxious, yet age -appropriately annoyed by the whole thing) "This sucks."

At that point, it was time to drive to school. Not too much more was said about the subject, and she happily departed my vehicle to walk the rest of the way with her BFF. About seven hours later, though, it was time to return for pick-up. Time for a little bit of 'Groundhog Day':

Me: "How was your day?"

Child: "Pretty good. Did Daddy leave for his party yet?"

Me: "Yep. He was gone all day."

A few humorous tidbits about the day were shared, and then we arrived home in time for Child to get her hour's worth of homework done before running out the door again for Practice. Child rocked her homework, and decided to spend her extra time adorning her assignment notebook with stickers (which she has not asked/used/given a darn about in the last year):

Child: "Mommy, I used to keep my stickers in this box. They're not there now! When you moved my stuff around, where did you put them??"

Me: (normally having the memory of an elephant, but presently having a pretty serious middle-aged mental block) "I honestly can't remember. Are they on your dresser? Top of the closet?"

(The sound of a chair being dragged into Child's room is audible. Pretty soon sobbing, yelling, and whinning also commences..)

Child: (unintelligible freaking out) ".... my stickers! I wish Daddy was here!!!!!"

Things were going South quickly. Ah Ha! I remembered something that would be able to get the "Mood Swing" to swing 180 degrees in the other direction....

Me: "Hurry and get on your leo and do your hair! Your new dowel grips (which are simply the bestest thing in the world when you're a 12 year-old girl) arrived, let's get to the Gym early so we can have Coach check them! (insert b-i-g smile here)"

Child: (face shows radical 180 degree mood transformation) "Yay! You're the best, Mommy! I'll be ready in 5 minutes!"

As luck would have it, Coach determined that said grips were too small; Child's excitement about having them for practice was now snuffed out. I left the Gym, and hoped everything else would be cool. Three hours later, it was back to the Gym, to gather a hungry, and tired, Child:

Me: "Hi, how was practice?"

Child: "Hmmp. Is Daddy home yet?"

Me: "Nope, it won't be until later"

Child: "When he gets home, tell him to come see me. Also tell him to come down to breakfast in the morning. I can't believe that I'm not going to see him until tomorrow!?!"

Me: "I don't know if I'll be awake when her gets home, but I'll do my best.."

So, like most Wednesdays, we arrived home to yet more homework, and then Child's shower time. After getting all cleaned-up, Child came down to grab some dessert, and veg in front of the tube for a bit. At least one reference was made to the "Missing Husband". At the appointed hour, I called for Child to come up for bed. What happened next was enough to fray the nerves of both of us:

Me: "Oh my Gosh! The back of your head is magenta?!?!? What in the heck happened???"

Child: (casually flipping her blonde hair onto her shoulder, unable to see the back of her head of course) "I don't see anything wrong!"

Me: (having an "Aha! moment" upon seeing magenta scrunchie in Child's freshly-washed, and soaking wet hair) "Your scrunchie bled dye in your hair! We need to get you upstairs and rewash it right away!"

Child: (mustering all of her strength to let out a huge whinning diatribe) "I just tooook a shower and I'm still coooolllld! I dooooon't want to get in the shoooooower again! NOOO!!"

It was now about 10 PM, and I shot Child my best 'death glare'. After a vigorous scrubbing, blowdrying, and (consolation) hair braiding, it was finally time to hit the hay.

Child: "I wish Daddy was here. He always does bedtime."

Me: "( Exhausted stare. Take me away, Calgon, take me AWAY....)"

I cannot remember the last time I was so exhausted from the 'process' of going to bed....

Chapter 2: Kitty

As mentioned earlier, Husband has not only a human child, but a furry one, as well. When she's not filling the role of the family "2nd born", Kitty also moonlights as Husband's sidekick in his home office. Like Child, Kitty is pretty much used to Husband being home all day, and changes to that routine can become a bit upsetting:

(Kitty is sitting in the doorway of Husband's Office)

Me: " 'Dads' went to work today. He's not here, Kitty."

Kitty: "Niiiiccce, what am I supposed to do with myself all day? That guy pets me...COME ON!"

Me: "Wanna come downstairs with 'Moms'?"

Kitty: (starts nervous grooming) "No thanks. I'm holding out for the slim chance he returns early, Woman! Hmmm, maybe I'll see how much hair I can get on his computer- hee, hee"

Kitty somehow managed to make it through what would have been *their* workday. At dinner time, she couldn't be fooled anymore. Patience was running thin...:

Me: (noticing cat looking at Husband's empty chair at the table) "Dads isn't going to be here for dinner tonight, Kitty!"

Kitty: "You've got to be friggin kidding me! It's late, and that means that I eat over there on the floor, and he eats on this high-up thing! This isn't funny anymore.... (starts nervous grooming)"

Late evening time is pretty special for Kitty and Husband. For the first two years of her life, Kitty was pretty much my "lap cat"; the last two years, however, have been all about Dads. Well, tonight there was no Dads; would this be the game-changer that I'd been waiting for????:

Kitty: (looking around for Dads. Scornfully eyeing the only available lap- mine) "OK. It's time for my nightly lap. Dads still isn't here. Hmmm..... Woman, you're just going to have to do for tonight."

With that, Kitty lowered her standards, and sat on my lap. I sat there and realized then and there that I had become "sloppy seconds" to a creature that licks it's own bottom... riiiiight....

Of all of the routines that Kitty and Husband share, their bedtime ritual is Kitty's absolute favorite. Because of Husband's allergy to Kitty, the door to the bedroom is closed all day. When we go up to bed at nightime, however, she is allowed to come in for a bit. Kitty plants herself outside of the bathroom door while Husband gets ready, waiting for her nightly scratching/attention. Time to explain that there would be none of that this evening:

Me: "Dads isn't here tonight, Kitty."

Kitty: (starts nervous grooming) "It's been a rough day around here, Woman! Now this??? Well, I'll just run under your bed, then! How do you like them apples?!?!"

Me: (Slowly approaching Kitty, knowing that any abrupt movement will send her under the bed, to the *exact* center, where she cannot be reached) "Time to go night-night, Kitty. Time to see Child!"

After throwing more objects than I care to name, I finally got Kitty out from under the bed, and out the door. She expressed her disgust by howling, and running manically up and down the staircase. Point noted already, Animal- thanks!

After the "Dog and Pony Show" that was the evening, I was relieved to turn off the lights, and just fall asleep. I never *heard* Husband come in last night, but I was made aware of the fact that he was 'in da house' by the incessant pawing on our bedroom door by Kitty as she tried to get to her Dads....

Even after his late night, Husband unselfishlessly awoke in time to have breakfast this morning with Child, and to 'acknowledge' Kitty. I don't think a guy ever felt so appreciated, or missed, at 6 AM in the morning. I'm glad that Husband had a chance to get out for a bit, but I'm very happy that the T family will not be 'minus one' this evening....