5.03.2013

You Can't Hide Yer Lyin' Eyes (Or Hair Color): Tales of Tween Years Gone Awry



I prayed for my baby girl to have curls. I don't know why I did, but I did. You know the prayers you pray that are a little out there and then God decides to remind you how He really is listening... to everything? Check. She had a head of hair from birth. Actually a long tail at the nape of her neck. Her curls were and are the kind that inspire poems. My hub and I used to recite one in particular that you've probably heard: "There once was a girl who had a curl right in the middle of her forehead-
when she was good she was very, very good, but when she was bad she was horrid."

Hmm...fast forward 12 years.

I am not a slave to fashion by a long shot. I rarely wear make- up. OK, I confess. I never wear makeup. She wanted to wear makeup in elementary school. I do not fuss to get ready to go anywhere. I'm a shower, dress and go, girl. She takes 45 minutes to get in her pajamas. Longer to dress for the day. Longer still to pick and find shoes.
She went through years of wanting straight hair. Her much more patient Dad, painstakingly straightened that head of hair. It was beautiful still, this thick, glorious mane. 

Currently she is fine with her hair, curls and all.

But...

not the color.

The perfectly fine, beautiful shade of brown, that I love.
God's perfect choice for her.

I barely go to the hair dresser either. 
I cover the grey periodically. 

How is this my child?


1st grade: "Mom, I want to color my hair green."

No.

5th grade: "Mom I want to dye my hair pink."

No. No.


7th grade: "Mom, I want to bleach my hair blonde."

No. No. No.

***********

We are heading out of the house to her Chorus program. Yesterday.


"Mom, can we stop at the store so I can get some gum?"

Sure.

"Can I go in by myself while you are in the Post Office?

"No, I will let you go in by yourself after the Post Office since it's on the way, if you want to run in then and I will wait in the car."

************

We arrive at the local Drugstore "Let me give you some money, Honey. I want you to get a drink for Chorus, too."

"I brought my own money."

"Oh, are you sure you have enough?"

"I have enough."

I am sitting in the car feeling, quite good about this progress. She carries a Navy Blue Bag with white stars over her shoulder and I sit in the car thinking that my girl is doing so well. Here she is going into the store on her own for a pack of gum. Something she hardly does. She rarely, no, never, carries a bag but thought she should TODAY to to carry her gum, money, chorus folder etc. I am suspicious of nothing and enjoying a blissful mom moment that will go up in a puff of delusional smoke soon. 

***************

We arrive home from Chorus, my sweet Tween wants to shower. Sure, no problem. It's early but I like this pro-active approach she's sporting. She had a shower yesterday morning but she sometimes pushes the shower frequency limit so this is another sign of progress, right? She's getting it, I think to myself. Perfect. Personal Hygiene victory!
Into the bathroom she goes.

Enter the theme from Gilligan's Island here...

It was like a three hour tour. I mean shower. 
Repeatedly we knock on the door and inquire. Dinner is ready.
She finally comes out and slips quickly down the hall to her bedroom. 

****************

"Mom, can you come here?"

I stand outside her door, "Yes?"

"Mom, promise you won't be mad."

"What are you talking about? Open the door."

To which she replies, "Promise me, you won't be mad."

"Open the door, now." I say in an increasingly impatient tone.

*****************


I am looking at my daughter, who has wet hair and and wears on her face the look of fear intermingled with victory.

Her hair is now a shade of orangey, blonde.

I decide to let her live.

At least long enough to hear her defense and the details of this latest scheme. 

****************




There are only two questions going through my head.

What would the amazing Recovering Church Lady do in this situation?

What would my hero in motherhood and life Sharon Linder do if this was one of her girls? 

What would you do if it was your Tween? 

(Mean or derogatory comments will be deleted!)


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8 comments:

  1. Hahaha! Yes, I can laugh because my turn is over, now it's yours. I helped my jr high son dye his hair more than once even though to me it was stupid for a guy to have colored hair. It's one of those "pick your battle" times. It is not life-threatening so go with the flow, is my advice.
    BUT the time Rocker Son got an underage tattoo by forging my name and hiding it from us for weeks...not cool!
    Be thankful!

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  2. I'm sitting here shaking my head, nodding my head, laughing and tearing up. THESE GIRLS, Dawn! I could go on and on with V-E-R-Y similar stories (and should THAT surprise you? LOL), but I will not do that here. Suffice it to say that I feel your pain, girl. All in all, it's what lies underneath the curls and the color and the clothing that counts at the end of the day. Give Miss Kat a hug from Mrs. M from NJ. And hang in there, friend. <3

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  3. Woo Hoo, gotta love her. lol

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  4. Oh my this makes me laugh! Only because I wound up with orange hair as a teenager too :) The only difference was my mom permitted me to dye my hair, I just should have let her have a say in the color. My daughter is already bugging me about dying her hair and she's only 4! I tell her when she's old enough to drive she can dye her hair. As far as dealing with the horrific color, you could let that be her punishment or you could use a 28 wash shampoo. If she's bent on dying her hair from now on I strongly recommend 28 wash shampoos until she can afford to pay a professional.

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  5. Oh, Dawn....you are just getting STARTED on the teen years. Start telling yourself now to pick your battles carefully. Orange hair? Temporary. Not physically harmful. A battle you can skip in my book. Megan just dyed her hair again...something like the 4th time in two or three months. Granted she's 20, but since this past Fall she's done blonde, black, something close to her natural dark brown with reddish gold highlights, to black again, to a sort of reddish color to dark, dark red (today's choice). I just shake my head and tell her that one of these days her hair is going to revolt and fall out in clumps. ;)

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  6. Okay, I can't help but laugh. My 12yo daughter is being very patient while I decide if she can highlight her hair on her birthday. I am not sure what I'd do if she took matters into her own hands. I do remember the day said daughter cut her little brother's hair. Picture this -- cute little reddish blonde haired boy with long bangs, just shy of cover his bright blue eyes. Came home one day and those bangs were gone, complete up to the top of his head! Hang in there girl!

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  7. I am guessing that you might be of the age to remember "Sun-In". We planned our suntanning lives around it. We never asked mom's permission either.
    Precious memories for you and your daughter, more memory making adventures are yet to come.

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  8. I just wrote a blog about "forgiveness"....this is one of those times :) ...girls will be girls...this is not life threatening or earth shattering. She's just starting to break out of her cocoon and preparing for flight into teenagehood. I like what others have said above..."pick your battles"....

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walk along the shore with me and leave your footprints in the sand-
I'm listening, friend...in November I will not be replying so often, but instead slip quietly over to your place for a visit. ;)