fwiw: reconciliation

here's a little follow up to the mean girl post:

time has healed some wounds. suzie did apologize--more than once--and then she waited. it was kind of sweet, really. i could tell when we talked about it that her regret and her desire to make things right was sincere. there were numerous times she would ask us or another friend if she should call katy or try to chat with her when she was on facebook, but it never seemed to be the right time. at school, katy wouldn't even look at her.

then a couple of days ago she must have called katy or something, because suze came jumping into the living room all excited (and a little too proud of herself) that she was going to go over to katy's (she lives just around the corner). they reconciled and katy even came over to our house. i know things may still be a bit awkward--they can both get on each other's nerves--but they're both trying.

the reason i wanted to bring this up again (in addition to the fact that i like resolution) is that i learned a valuable lesson from katy's mom. she works with my husband and i was afraid that would be a little awkward (because we all know how easy it is to get all mother bear when it comes to our kids). i had an opportunity to speak with her at the school's christmas party and i was so grateful and impressed.

katy's mother was great. i apologized to her and told her how badly we felt and how much we loved and missed katy. she had the right to be very angry, but instead she was awesome. she took the "girls will be girls" approach, telling me that katy has been guilty of doing the very same thing. while she was obviously sad that her daughter's feelings had been hurt, she also made it clear she wanted the two to reconcile. she expressed her hopes that suzie would be patient while katy worked through it and that they would be friends again. she also told me how much they loved and missed suze and was so very understanding. that was super generous of her, especially as, in this case, it was completely my child's fault.

what i have observed as a mother with older kids--particularly as a mother of a daughter--is that we have two options when our girls mix it up with or are hurt by other girls. we can go all mother bear and want to hurt somebody (this is my instinctual response) and try to fix it. or we can love and support our own child, while remaining open to the possibility that there are two sides to every story; get the facts and look at them with some degree of perspective; and give our kids the space to work things out and learn what they can and need to from the experience.

with the girls in my hood, i have seen the effects of both types of parental responses. my observation is that the results are generally better--resolution is more likely and my child learns so much more--when i take the high road.

i guess what i am saying is, when i grow up i want to be like katy's mom.

that's all.

Heels

I must admit I rolled my eyes when Sissy G put on a pair of strappy 4 inch heels to go to Sam's Club with me today.
I decided it was a battle I'd rather not fight and agreed to let her wear them....certain she would take them off within minutes for comfort's sake.
I was wrong...my girly girl not only wore them the entire shopping trip, but strode, strutted, and glided in them like a runway model!!
I don't encourage this. In fact, I think heels--while they look pretty and make your legs look better--are ridiculous in everyday living. (It doesn't mean if you wear them I think YOU are ridiculous) I think they are going to ruin your feet. That's all I'm sayin'.
I'm uber practical. I'm busy. I work hard. And I can't be bothered with feet that hurt!
(It doesn't mean if you wear them I think you aren't any of the above)
At 12 years old, she's already 5'4". Her birthmother was 5'11" and the birthfather was nearly 7'. She is going to be tall. Heels may not be something she is interested in for much longer.

When a fun song with a good beat came on overhead, I looked over and Sissy Girl was dancing in her fancy heels like no one was watching. With twirls, chass'es, and step ball changes.

Oh, to be that uninhibited....

We went to the shoe store later. I bought myself a nice pair of practical flats and two pairs of adorable peep toe heels for her.

I know I won't always delight in our differences...but I have a feeling my dear daughter will be teaching me a thing or two about style.....and substance.

Unprepared

My daughter became a young woman tonight.
At the Fiesta Days Rodeo.
In the port-a-potty.
(for some reason, this sounds skeezy...I mean it in the no-she-wasn't-in-there-with-a-boy kind of way!)

She came back into the Grandstand to our spot on the bench with big smile on her face and whispered it to me. I wasn't sure if I believed her nor did I want to have the full on conversation with her 13 year old brother sitting in between us.

I leaned over, placed my hand on Hoss' cheek and pulled his head close to my face and whispered it to him. All the color left his face, his eyes got real big, and he said, "She what?" Oh, you just wait....I don't think daddy's are ever ready to hear that their little girl's not so little any more.

After I got past the initial shock and the giggling to myself over what a fantastic journal entry it would be for her:
Dear Diary, tonight I got my first period in the port-a-potty at the Rodeo...
I started to feel a little panicky!
A few things came to mind:
Her reaction is a million times the opposite of my reaction.
She's all excited!
She couldn't wait to tell me.
I could have died!
I waited as long as I could before mumbling something to my mother.
I guess we'll have to stop at the store on the way home.
What do I get her?
The last time I had a period, there were only a few options: cardboard applicator, no applicator, and something like unto a diaper!
That was before 'wings' and ultra thins.
What works best right at first?
I'm starting to sound like a dad, not a mom......
It's just that I've been without periods now for longer than I had them.
Things aren't ever going to be the same at our house.
Ugh....her brothers......they need to be instructed too.
I guess it doesn't matter if I'm ready or not.....Aunt Flow is here.

bonus: opposable thumbs

Yesterday I had two things happen that I think the younger version of MommyMe would have found absolutely mortifying. Yet . . . the current version of MommyMe is confidently grateful for how each situation played out.

First scenario: I had gone to pick up one daughter from Reading Camp at school and left my oldest in charge of the sleeping one and the 4 year old (I had brought the newborn with me). Upon driving into our neighborhood I phoned my oldest to let her know that I was arriving and to ask her to please open the garage for me (our opener is broken, and all the doors were triple-locked, as is her pleasure). When the garage door was open, I began to pull forward when my four year old, all bright-eyed and happy, opened the kitchen door and began to walk towards me. So I layed on the horn. Scared the crap out of her. She started bawling. This is where OldMommyMe would have felt so, so bad -- for scaring her, for making her cry. Instead, NowMommyMe immediately had the thought: "Good. She should be scared of this. And that was my intent: to scare her away from a moving vehicle."

Second scenario: I had to go to the market last night (yes, I call the grocery store 'the market') and oldest wanted to go with me. While I was doing the math in my head to add up the possibe combinations of 24 oz. or fewer of cereal, she asked if she could have an ice cream cone (from the deli). I gave her $2, told her to get two small cones, and then come find me. Since so many in my town spend their family night at the market, it was kind of crowded, but I moved swiftly to get the things I needed. Upon arriving near the milk, my phone rang. I didn't recognize the incoming number. "Hello?"

"Hi. Your daughter says she's lost you. We're at the store."

"Oh! Thank you. I'm by the milk."

"I'll let her know."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

A few seconds later I saw her wheeling towards me, holding an ice cream cone in each hand. She was not smiling. I greeted her warmly and asked what happened. With tears in her eyes she told me that she couldn't find me so she looked for a mommy with kids for help.

Exactly what I've taught her to do.

OldMommyMe would have broken down and cried, a little from embarrassment, but mainly from the negative, scary thoughts of what could have happened. NowMommyMe was swelling with pride and comfort that my daughter had done the absolute right thing, showing that she'd know what to do in a more serious situation.

And now . . . yes, it really is 4:something in the morning . . . NowMommyMe is getting ready for a (mortifying) marathon day at Primary Children's Hospital involving all sorts of tests -- an experience that OldMommyMe wouldn't even be able to comprehend.