The Oldest

                                    
I have faith that my youngest will come back to me because my oldest did. It started at the end of 4th grade, the attitudes and eye rolling. Moms of early bloomers get extra years of this kind of behavior. *sigh* I wanted to kill the child in 5th grade but she started to come back to me by the end of 6th grade.

We have an incredibly close relationship. She texts me throughout the day, we send memes to each other, if she hears a song she thinks I'll like, she sends it to me. She still wants me to come have lunch with her at school. So, I do that once a month. That's our special time. She will hug me in front of her friends, she wants me to chaperone every field trip, and be at every event. She talks to me about almost everything- the good, bad, and the ugly. There is a trust and understanding between us that I am grateful for.

She is really coming into her own. The middle school years have not been easy ones but this year has been a good year. I can't really put my finger on it but there is a calmness about her, a quiet confidence that was bubbling under the surface that has started to spill over.

She came home from school one day in October and declared, "I'm not being friends with people who are not good for me or make me feel bad."
"Okay. Tell me more about this."
"I just told them that we are different people now and even though I love them, we can't be friends anymore," she said just matter-of-factly.
"Were you mean about it?"
"No. I mean, I'll still say hi and be nice but I'm not going to pretend to be someone that I'm not. I'm tired of that."

I thought that was a pretty profound realization for a 13 year old. She did exactly that. She ended some old friendships and started some new ones. Her circle is small but there is little to no drama. She is a lot happier.

She spends most of her time doing homework and playing the flute.  She's been playing for the past 45 minutes as I write this. That's not to say she's not a normal teenager- she spends a fair amount of time scrolling through Instagram, painting her nails while listening to indie music, and taking selfies and sending them out on Snapchat.

She is an old soul. She takes on a lot of responsibility. She has to wake up for early band practices multiple times a week. I NEVER have to get her up. Even on the days we have to leave the house before dawn. She gets herself up at 5:30, and has her stuff together. She cleans her room on Sundays, I never have to get on her for that (not that I would, it's her space). If she needs clothes washed and forgot to put them in the hamper, she does her own laundry. She likes to cook. A few weekends ago she made us this delicious linguine tossed in a cheese butter sauce with sauteed portobello mushrooms and crushed garlic. I'm impressed with her cooking skills.

She likes to nap and drink camomile tea with a touch of honey. She loves classical music, film scores and Lana del Rey. She is amazing at doing hair and makeup and is a creative spirit. She likes to paint and write. She's a joy to be around. She can be salty, but 90% of the time she is pleasant and jovial.

She's struggled in school. She is a B student mostly. A few A's a few B's and always a C in math. Math is the bane of her existence. She has never made the honor roll because she always has a 78 in math. That is okay with me- she works hard for that 78. She is in Alegbra 1 this year, which is a high school class.

Earlier in the year she brought home a progress report that was crap. She was so upset about it and in full breakdown mode. I told her to pull up Powerschool and she had a bunch of 0s for homework assignments.
"Why aren't you turning in your homework?"
"It's only a few. Besides, it's only 5% of my grade," she said.
I gave her the speech I've been giving her the past 3 years. "School is a numbers game. If you aren't a strong test taker, you have to turn in all of your homework and classwork and do test corrections EVERYTIME. It's not a ton of extra effort and even though it might not seem like it matters - 1 point here and 2 points here will add up. Just look over your notes before your tests. You are smart, get your shit together."

She has to be self motivated. I am not going to micro-manage her school work. I am not going to stand over her and make her study every night. I am not emailing her teachers to give her extra credit. I'm just not.

I don't know what it was that finally "clicked" in her but she actually *GASP* listened to me. Guess what? This semester she made the honor roll. For the first time in 3 in a half years. Not only did she make the honor roll, she made an A in Algebra. She is so happy and I'm proud of her.

She is an all-around great kid but I don't believe she is perfect by any means and that's not to say we don't have our disagreements. Just the other weekend, I dropped her off at the mall with a friend. I gave her some money to buy a pretzel and a little something for herself. When I picked her up she had a bag from Pacsun.

"What did you get?" I asked.
She pulled out this cropped tank top that was skimpy as hell. "Do you like it?" she asked.

God. This is a test. My visceral reaction was: That shirt is slutty. Who does she think she is? You are going to march her ass back into the store and make her take it back and show her that you are the PARENT and she is the CHILD. Then, on the way home you are going to give her a lecture about modesty and being an appropriate young woman. 

I had to check myself then. Stop being a judgmental asshole. You don't believe in slut shaming. Insisting that she take the shirt back will only cause a huge argument and put space inbetween us. Is it worth it to feel like you have power and control? Does she really need another lecture? Doesn't she already know your feelings about most everything? 

All these things were running through my head. I thought very carefully before I spoke. This is how I responded, "I really like the color. It's not something you could wear to school or something dad and I would approve of you wearing out and about. But you could definitely wear it in the house, or under a V-neck tee or maybe with the summer coming up, over your bathing suit top at the beach or the pool."

"Yeah, I was thinking maybe with high-waisted jeans and like, a sweater," she added.

Then, that was it. She put the shirt back in the bag and we went on our way. I felt conflicted. Did I do the right thing? I felt I did the right thing for my kid and it is indicative of my parenting style. But I questioned myself.

The next day, I sent her off to school and late that morning I got a text from her: Mom, can we go back to the mall tonight? I want to take back that shirt I got. It's not really my style.

I was like:

          

That's what we did. She returned the shirt and got an adorable, mom-approved striped tee. Without me bitching, without a battle, she used good judgement and I felt vindicated. I love moments like that.

We got back in the car to drive home, she put on Symphony Number 25 in G minor and hummed along. I glanced over at her and remarked at how beautiful she has become. My big girl.