Deep Cut

When you're a parent, you become aware at some point that you are, in all likelihood, embarrassing your child in some way. I've sometimes wondered which aspects of my personality/appearance/behavior are causing angst for my child. Is it my too-loud laugh? My tattoos? Nose piercing? My daughter is, at her core, a kindhearted person who would never identify the offending attributes out loud, so I may never know. I can only guess.

Granted, there are times when I definitely act up just for fun (and to keep my daughter from getting too big for her britches).  For example, her dad and I enjoy behaving as though we may not be able to suppress the urge to square dance at school events. Last week, I was waiting for my daughter after rehearsal (story of my life). I was idling in front of the school and had the dogs in the back of my Equinox. I saw her walk out with her boyfriend. He grabbed her hand as they started down the sidewalk towards the parking lot. Right on cue, I rolled down the passenger side window and yelled "NO TOUCHIE!" at them. He dropped her hand. I was laughing so I hope the poor boy knew I was kidding. When my daughter got into the car, she rapidly texted him to explain (or beg forgiveness for) my behavior.

"Oh my God, Mom," she said, shaking her head as her fingers flew across her phone screen.

Fitting in is almost always a challenge for kids. I thought we got through the worst of it in middle school. She always had lots of friends. While I didn't buy her designer clothes, I was always willing to get her "socially acceptable" clothing. When I was in fifth grade, some kids made fun of me because they recognized that my shoes were from Safeway. I don't remember why sneakers were being sold at the grocery store, but there you go. So when my kid wanted a pair of Converse low-tops, I bought them. We don't get too crazy, though - for the most part she doesn't get anything unless I have a coupon. I'm also caught in an endless cycles of Kohl's cash ("I'm here to spend my Kohl's cash. What? I just earned more? Son of a . . . ").

I'd like to think that I'm raising a young person who has the strength of character to be a little bit different and to be okay with that. Some of her differences are not by choice. She's short, for starters. Some of her friends call her "fun size" and even have her listed in their phones that way. She did crack the five-foot mark over the summer, but the doctor says she's basically done. She's 5'1/2" so if she tells you she's 5'1" just go with it. We live in a town where most people are Catholic or Lutheran. We are Unitarian Universalist (though, to be clear, I have always told her that she is free to choose her own religion when she grows up). She was adopted (though I don't think this is a source of embarrassment - she usually tells people freely). She's a vegetarian. She has epilepsy (there is a really solid chance that she'll outgrow this within the next year). She has ADHD - inattentive type. I doubt she'll outgrow that. So yes, a few challenges but nothing that seems, you know, insurmountable.

My daughter is different in ways that are amazing, too. She has the most beautiful head of curls. What I wouldn't give for five minutes of having hair like hers. She has stunning green (technically hazel) eyes. She sings beautifully and I'm not just saying that because I'm her mother - I have external confirmation on this! She can act and dance, too.

It's no secret that I'm very proud of my girl. I told her that I hope her boyfriend is good with #2 fan status because I've already taken the first position.

What is a mother to do, then, when her daughter rejects a component of her upbringing? I am trying to cope and I am failing. I feel like the world's worst track and field athlete, knocking over every single hurdle as I scramble along. My daughter no longer wants to be a vegetarian. I am beside myself.

When A was younger, I told her exactly where meat comes from. I kept it age-appropriate, but I wanted it to be crystal clear that pigs don't donate their body parts voluntarily ("try one of my ribs - they're delicious!"). The way I feel about factory farming has not changed in decades. It's a visceral thing for me. My daughter loves Esther the Wonder Pig. She loves animals. Why is she closing her eyes to what happens to them? Plus, even if we take the abject suffering out of the equation . . . factory farming is a huge contributor in the destruction of the planet. I thought Generation Z was up to speed on these things.

I can't lie - I have shed tears over this. The irony of the whole thing is that it's easier than ever to be a plant-based eater. Even fast food has gotten on board with vegan options. Burger King, Qdoba, Chipotle - easy! Are kids really that hard on kids who don't eat meat? I guess maybe they are or I wouldn't be writing this.

I'm doing my best to set aside my broken heart and respect her choice. I don't understand why she's made it, but I'm trying. To be honest, we haven't talked about it a ton because if we do, I fear I'll end up bombarding her with facts that she does not want to hear. Maybe being vegetarian was one "difference" too many. All I can do is to hope that when she gets to college, she'll switch back.

I can't help but feel that I was not sufficiently warned about this aspect of parenting. Sigh.

Hang in there, Esther. Hearts and minds change all the time.