It's President's Day. I have the kids home today. I was trying to find the start times for the parades and the fireworks and a complete listing of the different festivities, but can't seem to see them. Maybe they are all booked up. Ya think? President's Day...WEEKEND no less! The bunnies were off on Friday too! What the?????
Anyway, my daughter is about to get rained out of her riding lessons. Again. This breaks not only her heart but mine. Because now I must come up with something fun to do. Her brother has decided to run next door and pick up bugs that have come out of hibernation too early and play "science". I'm assuming that it involves experiments in direct pressure, torque, and heat. The outcome can NOT be good for the early risers.
So my daughter comes to me and stands sideways with her hands on her hips, smoothing her shirt. At first I am confused as to what is going on....then she all but slaps me.
"I think I need a bra. I'm developing. See?"
"What ?" I sputter. The water I was drinking has found a firey exit through my nose and my eyes are stinging. They are the size of half dollars while my jaw is resting comfortably on the carpet. Winston is swatting it.
"Mommy, all girls do it. We get bigger."
"I am aware of this, Maddie. In fact, I did it too but mine just kept going and now they are about ready to be tucked into my pants."
She wrinkles her nose and says "Huh? It doesn't say that in the book you gave me."
I wave her off and look at her shirt. I see jelly stains and muddy spots. There can't be room for womanhood in there. Her mussy hair and kool-aid stained lips don't suggest pre-teen or puberty in any way. I sigh, lost and panicked. Then lightbulb goes off in my mind. It used to work when she was a baby. And that was yesterday anyway, so I'm in the clear: "Let's play dress up." I suggest out of the blue. It was a jumpy switch, but drastic situations require drastic measures.
She shrugs and disappears returning with a large black box. In it is make-up, nail polish and the assortment of "war paint". We giggle and paint our nails, talking about school and friends or movies we want to see. I love these times with her. Once we are drying, she leans back and closes her eyes.
"Me first. " she says.
I begin with eyeshadow that matches her shirt and end with a soft pink lip gloss that brings out just enough fire in her cheeks to make her my pretty lil baby doll. I apply a little eyeliner and pretend to use mascara. Her eyelashes are too thick and dark for it. I secretly wish I had this problem. I move on to her hair and begin to put little sparkly beads in it and do it up all fancy. My little painted canvas opens her eyes and glimpses in the mirror. We both gasp. She with wonder and me with horror. She looks like she's in high school. And as the tears brim and threaten to spill over, I realize she needs a bra.
She is fidgeting and I stop for a moment. "Sit still Honey. I'm almost finished with your hair. What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"
"Nothing Mommy, but can I go outside now?"
I hear her girlfriends running around outside. Depressed and sad, I raise my arms and let her go. She rushes out the door to join them. She flashes them her nails like a dainty princess and they coo over her hair. They begin to giggle and tell secrets to each other. I smile at her beauty both inside and out. What a wonderful young lady.
Just before I turn away, I see her squat down and pick up some bugs next to her brother. She grinds one up betweent her fingers and smears the results across her shirt. She swigs juice from a bottle and swipes her mouth with her sleeve creating another spot on her shirt that will require extra attention in the laundry this week.
I will gladly attend to it.
For all of you that warned me....it hurts more than I thought. For all of you that have yet to come this far? No one can protect you from this painful, beautiful moment of truth.
Thanks for coming. Have a lovely day.
