Wednesday, October 22, 2008

A Hill On Which I Will Die

I remember the days when I was in control of the mornings, and when everyone left the house, it was in a cute little outfit and matching shoes. My girls are right when they say little kids get all the cool stuff.

The way they dress themselves these days is not a hill on which I want to die. Because it would be a bloody massacre I would lose when they ganged up on me 4 to one.

This morning, I happened to be up as everyone left for school and work. Normally I'm sleeping -- but I was awakened at 5:30AM and couldn't go back to sleep.

But this was great, because I was able to sit at the kitchen table and just observe. Fascinating! Hunk O Man gives everything a little extra pat as he's making the girls' sandwiches for lunches. And he's so meticulous! Finally I can really see where Rose gets her aversion to having anything gooey or sticky on her hands.

I also took note of JB, who entered in a t-shirt and jeans. Followed by Bug, who entered in an oversized hoodie and jeans. Following them was Barbie, who wore a very cute sweater over t-shirt, tied loosely at the waist, over jeans and complete with cute scarf tied at the neck.

When I made mention of this, I was met with scorn from JB. "Who cares? Why would I want to look nice for school?" And then "Bug is wearing a sloppy t-shirt too." Bug stated that she was wearing a hoodie, duh, and she was wearing the exact same t-shirt JB had on under her hoodie.

Barbie walked in, and of course said "Whose t-shirt looks sloppy?"

JB answered with this: "I'd wear that kind of stuff if I had it in my closet."

This prompted a yes-you-do/no-I-don't exchange between Barbie and JB, and Barbie and I both assurred JB that if we went upstairs right then, we were sure we'd find something cute. JB just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

I think that means she thinks she won that one. Either that or she doesn't care.

Rose followed closely behind with a pink oversized hoodie and jeans. They all hustled and bustled around and I mostly sat quietly and watched. It was very entertaining. And this mostly because Barbie proved herself again the fashion plate. I'll be interested to see if the clothing changes at all tomorrow.

Later, Babydoll came down. Happy go lucky, homeschooled, comfy Babydoll in some kind of outfit comprised of several tanks and a pair of jeans.

Now here is a hill on which I will die:

We had a "fall apart" about this on the way to dropping her off for rehearsals last night. I quietly said, "I will say this for the last time, and I really mean it. Get your bangs out of your eyes."

She is in that 13-year-old weirdness phase we all have gone through. For me, it was always wearing a shirt or top that was almost as long as a dress. We all have some strange thing we think is cool, so we do it.

For Babydoll, it is the constant hair in the eyes.

Well, this is my last child, my last teenager, and a hill on which I am willing to die. There will be no more hair in the eyes. I will have my way despite the whining and crying and wailing and gnashing of teeth. There is one of her and one of me, and the odds are quite even.

There are bobby pins, headbands, and hair clips in this child's future, I assure you.

And in the future when she sees photographs of herself during these years, she will thank me for laying dead on the Hill Of No More Bangs In The Eyes.

Which I'm afraid I won't be able to say for all the other teenagers and their sloppy t-shirts on their way to school. Thank God for Barbie and her love of fashion. I may not be able to dress them in cute little matching outfits and shoes anymore, but I will wield my sword of No More Bangs in the Eyes with a vengeance.