It’s Homecoming here in Raider Land. Eldest Female Spawn (11, ALMOST 12!) asks, ” Mom, can I wear makeup to the game tonight?”
Ummm…no. My first reason….your grammar.
Yes, I am a grammar freak. Had you said, “Mom, may I wear makeup tonight?” I would have said……”Ummm NO.”
You’re in sixth grade my baby doll. You’re not old enough. I know you want to grow up, become more mature and more like the high school girls.
No. Stop it. I can’t take my baby doll growing into a young woman. A pretty cool cat too. You’re rocking the new glasses. You’re nailing the grades. Softball is going well. You’re running on your own after school every day.
You. Are. Growing. Up.
i’m. not. ready.
It seems like last week when you couldn’t quit brush your own hair. We would fight and then go get your hair cut off short to a cute pixie style. Wasn’t it just yesterday when we went to Target and you shared popcorn with your bestie K while her mom and I shopped? Didn’t you just learn to tie your shoes? Didn’t we just take you to the first day of kindergarten?
Fast forward a few months. Now you’re 12. You have a phone. You politely and respectfully present your case for being allowed to wear makeup. Still, I resist.
But now you’ve grown and matured more and more. Your only request for Christmas was makeup.
I decided I had to let you grow up a little. I want to be there to support you as you grow up, participate and enjoy your experiences, not prevent or dread them.
So we did it, you and I together. We went to the Mall of America. We had some one on one time. You got your make up and lesson from a very talented makeup artist. She taught you the beauty you possess is you…not the makeup you wear. I could (and have told) tell you that until I was blue in the face. But hearing it from another woman, one who deals with makeup and faces every day, it finally sunk in. You. Are. Beautiful.
Not the makeup on your face.
I’m so proud of the young woman you’re becoming.
I love you.