Will everyone think I look silly?


My daughter, almost since birth, has generally sported a devil-may-care attitude about her conduct, her appearance, etc. That's how most kids are and that's how it should be. Slowly but surely, though, I'm noticing a new self-awareness sneaking in.

My artsy-craftsy friend Nancy gave her a handmade Halloween pin a couple months ago. The pin is a foam candy corn. It's cute and age-appropriate. When we were visiting my mom last month, I put it on A one day. She looked down at it, frowned a bit and asked, "Is everyone going to think I look silly?"

"No, of course not," I replied, puzzled. For starters, we were in a town over 1,000 miles from where we live. This little hamlet (Corn, Oklahoma - no lie) is so tiny that it has no streetlights and only a handful of stop signs. The odds of someone she knows spotting her and guffawing over her candy corn pin were pretty small. Infinitesimal, even. Second, we had no plans to leave the house that day. My mother and her gaggle of felines were also unlikely to point and mock (at least not right to her face - you know how some cats are).

My daughter is very confident in herself, so I was surprised at her question. Now that she attends elementary school, I suppose more external influences are seeping in. I'm not sure I like it. I mean, this is the same kid who stated, upon arriving at our neighborhood park: "Oh good, there are people here! Everyone will see me!" The same kid who skips in public, hops on any stage she can find, and chats up strangers every chance she gets.

Last Thursday, she and I attended a Fall Festival over at the elementary school. There were craft stations set up and a deejay rockin' some tunes in the gym. By the way, the deejay played "The Cha Cha Slide" and let me tell you, if you want to see chaos, play a song that instructs dozens of young children to "slide it to the left" and "slide it to the right." The deejay gave a quick primer on the concepts of left and right before playing the song, but the end result was still a tangle of minor collisions on the dance floor. Unintentional comedy is sometimes the best kind.

My kid was dancing and running around with some of her 4K friends. I was talking to a mom who lives down the street from me and wasn't paying specific attention to what A was doing at that moment. Somehow, she ended up ass over teakettle and smacked the back of her skull on the dance floor. I hope this will be the first and last time I have to type a sentence like that. She came running to me and I knelt down and did my best to console her. I rubbed her head and wiped her tears and waited to see if she wanted to get back out on the dance floor. To my surprise, she said she wanted to go home. My daughter is not the type to leave a party, nosirree. I always picture the college-version of her yelling "We're not leavin' till we're heavin'!" Then it dawned on me: she was somewhat embarrassed. I pulled her up on my hip and carried her out of the building, she resting her tear-stained face on my shoulder while still clutching her baggie of cowboy trail mix in her fist.

The real bummer: she didn't even get a chance to do the limbo.

Comments

Mary said…
Ya know I hate to say it but it sort of sucks growing up! The world is not such a friendly or happy place at times and as little ones we can protect them from all that. But as they grow older and are more into the world it would be impossible and unrealistic to do so. Thankfully she will always have her family to turn to.... What a cute picture of her but I have to say she sure is looking a bit more grown up!!;)
November 10, 2009 at 1:49 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It's been a minute, but let's talk about my b*o*o*b*s

Image
I'm in the sixth grade. I'm sitting on the floor at my friend Sharon's house. Rachel is there, too. My well-meaning friends turn to me and gently let me know that I "really don't need to bother wearing a bra." They aren't wrong. I'm wearing one, but the situation doesn't particularly warrant it.  Two years later, I found myself sporting a C cup. My mom, a talented seamstress, made me a dress at about that time. It was a slim-fitting column dress with a matching jacket, as I recall. The white fabric had large polka dots; we jokingly called it the Wonder Bread dress. My mom took my measurements. 36-24-36 At some point in history, those numbers were considered "perfect measurements" for a woman. This was 1984; I'd like to think the world as a whole is less concerned about such things these days. I'm confident my daughter has no earthly idea what her measurements are. She just knows she's cute.  Growing up with a fun array of medi
Read more

On Being Patriotic

The list of adjectives I assign to myself is pretty long: clumsy, organized, competent, uptight, etc. One that might surprise you: patriotic. I fully understand what it means to be an American and am darned happy about living here. But, I have a beef (that part won't surprise you). I've grown tired of certain segments of the population thinking that they've cornered the market on patriotism or that they can dictate precisely how the rest of us express ourselves when it comes to our shared country and flag. Sometimes it seems like the Toby-Keith-boot-in-yer-ass brand of patriotism drowns out the rest of us. For the record, I don't believe that patriotism requires a love of NASCAR, a disdain for immigrants, a Republican voting record, or a preference for country music. Nor does it require adherence to a specific religion. I've seen Facebook posts from some of my friends and acquaintances that call for all of us to return to the "Christian principles on which
Read more

Three cheers for headgear!

Image
The day has finally arrived. Headgear day! I feel a bit sorry for my daughter's orthodontist. I have a feeling that most kids hate him until they see the end result of all the re-arranging and appliances  - in theory, straight teeth. We pass Dr. M's office building pretty regularly and my daughter shakes her fist at it every time. She was basically a pill during today's visit. He had to make an adjustment to her palate expander and she was not what you'd call a good sport about it. I don't think Dr. M loses a lot of sleep over the fact that my daughter dislikes him, though. Anywho . . . the kid was fitted with her new headgear and we were sent home with instructions and about a hundred million tiny rubber bands. The instructions are that she needs to wear it at least 10 hours a day, if not more like 12. We can't even get Her Highness to flush a toilet - making her wear headgear feels like a Herculean task right out of the gate. But, we shall see. Be glad you
Read more