Earlier this week, when we were living in the hospital, my 9 year old looked a little tired, so I let her curl up into my lap. It looked kind of ridiculous, because I was holding her top half like a baby and her long legs were having over the chair onto the adjoining couch. She is never that close to me anymore and as I looked down at her, I brushed her hair behind her ears and I noticed something different about her. Something you couldn't really notice unless you were close up. "Did you shave your eyebrows?" Her eyes got really big - and she just looked at me and said nothing. "You shaved off the ends of your eyebrows!" She smiled shyly. "And this middle part, and this part here." I looked at them closely, she did a halfway decent job. I examined her closely. "And you shaved your upper lip too?"
I remained calm and thought in my head of what I was going to say and how this conversation would go. I probed. "So, tell me about why you wanted to shave your eyebrows and your upper lip." She shrugged her shoulders. "It's okay, I'm not mad." She unloaded. "Well, one time dad said that I have the same eyebrows as him and his eyebrows are bushy and I don't want to have bushy eyebrows AND my friend said that I have a mustache." I had to restrain my laughter a bit because I thought the whole thing was very silly, although I know it was not silly to her. I pondered how I would respond to this. I mean, a piece of me was very upset - she's 9, she should be climbing trees, not worrying about whether or not she has bushy eyebrows. Another part of me can remember being self-conscious at that age and feeling in-between and relating to that. "Well, I think you were perfect just the way you were. I think you are beautiful but if it REALLY bothers you, I can help you keep your eyebrows clean and we can take care of the fuzz on your upper lip." "Really?" I shrugged my shoulders, "Sure, just promise not to shave them again." "Promise."
So, that happened. The feminist in me is mad at myself and thinks that I should have just told her that she doesn't need to conform to some made-up standard of beauty and should just ride her bike not care at all. But she does see me do keep up my eye brows and my upper lip so of course these are things I don't like about my own appearance and that probably sends a bad message.
I think she's gorgeous. But she's my child and kids are her age are skeptical and take things with a grain of salt. I remember being in middle school and my parents telling me I was beautiful and thinking, I'm your kid - of course you think that, you are obligated to. I just want some of the boys to think that, I don't care about your opinion. I recall that exact thought. I am sensitive to the fact that my opinion doesn't hold much water in that department, although it is true. :)
I'm going to win the bad mom award and I am going to teach her how to tweeze her eyebrows. Just the space between them and a little on the top and the bottom. I want them to still be kid-like but enough that she's not self conscious about it. We'll Nair her upper lip. I don't want her to. I REALLY, REALLY don't. I know that I have to give a little bit. I feel like I need to be supportive and pick my battles. Besides, she might go and shave her eyebrows if I don't. I just feel like I need to be able to handle and be calm about the small things so that one day she can come to me about the big things.
I am starting to see that my role is changing with her and it is becoming more and more apparent by the day. That the first half was focused on keeping her alive. Keeping her fed and comfortable. Making sure she was secure and could perform basic tasks and instilling a sense of right and wrong. Teaching manners and empathy. But this second half will not be so easy. She is starting to understand how the world works. She is starting to realize that her parents are not perfect and have many flaws. Our job now seems like it will be helping her navigate through the trials and triumphs of this transformation from a child to a young adult. Trying to preserve her self-esteem and self worth. Making sure she can handle responsibility and autonomy but keeping her safe with appropriate boundaries at the same time. Truthfully, I am scared to death. I don't know if I am ready for this time - but ready or not here it comes. Starting with eyebrows. Next she'll want to shave her legs, then pierce her ears, then wear makeup, then dye her hair, then have a boyfriend. Ugggh - I don't like the second half so far. It's so awkward.
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