Baby Girl, Bug and Prissy at Halloween.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Oh, To Be Eight Years Old And In Love
I’ve always wondered if Baby Girl inherited more of my traits than those of her father. Yesterday she came home with a story that proves she really is more like me.
I must first let you know that Baby Girl is just starting to come out of her shell. I attribute this to having Honey in her life and to Cheerleading. She has always been a little on the weepy side and would start to cry if you looked at her wrong. She is very big on protecting her “private life” which includes everything from who her “boyfriend” is to her zipper being down in public. EVERYTHING pertaining to her is her “private life” and should NEVER be spoken about aloud. (Thank Heaven she can’t get online alone!)
Our neighbor to the back has a son (we’ll call him Spike). Spike is really cute and in Baby Girl’s class. For months we’ve been hearing from Prissy and Diva that Baby Girl “likes” Spike. Every time one of them would bring up Spike – Baby Girl would yell “You’re lying”, go to her room and slam the door. If I dared ask what was wrong – the tears would begin and she would tell me it was her “private life and they’re lying”. Ok – I know I’m old but I know that is code for “I wish they wouldn’t tell you that I like this boy”. I explained to Baby Girl that they were just teasing her and it didn’t matter if it were true or not. If she wanted to like Spike then just like him and tell Prissy and Diva to jump off a cliff.
When I got home from work on Halloween, Baby Girl pulled me in the bathroom to tell me something. She sat me down on the side of the tub, crossed her hands across her chest and proceeds to tell me, “I told Spike yesterday that I liked him and today at school, he told me he likes me back. So, he is my boyfriend and I don’t want you and Daddy to make jokes about it – OK”. I didn’t know if I should just go to my room or what. I was felling very much that the roles had been reversed and I was being corrected by my 8 year old. I did what any self respecting mother in this situation would do – I said, “Yes ma’am”, got up and left the room so I could laugh.
On Tuesday, Baby Girl came home with a new piece of jewelry. It would seem that Spike had presented his new Love with a pretty, pink, beaded necklace. Now, where Spike acquired these precious gems, I haven’t a clue but if his sister winds up knocking on my door I won’t be surprised. Anyway – she is now sporting a necklace that Spike gave her and will NOT take it off and all seems to be wonderful in her new world.
Thursday, I arrive home and am informed by Honey that I NEED to ask Baby Girl about her day. I call out to Baby Girl and tell her that I am going to the potty but want to hear about her day when I get finished. Of course – she follows me into the bathroom because as a 33 year old woman, I am incapable of peeing by myself. She proceeds to tell me about her day. It begins with a deep sigh and hands on her hips. She also has this way of not actually looking at you when she talks – she kind of talks to whatever is on the ceiling behind you. So there she was – really giving the ceiling a very serious look, hands on her hips. She took a really deep breath and said, “Mamma – some of the kids at school today were teasing me at lunch and they were getting on my last nerve. They finally ran right over it and I SNAPPED and went off!” Being that I am old, my first question was, “ran over what”. “MY NERVE”, she said. “Oh”. I said. “What were they saying?” (At this point I am trying hard to keep a straight face). “They were saying, “Spike and Baby Girl were supposed to get married yesterday” and I just WENT OFF”. Through a clenched jaw I asked, “What did you say to them?” “I yelled at them and told them to ZIP IT! (Finger pointed) I told them that I didn’t want to here it anymore and that they needed to LEAVE ME ALONE!”. “Then I started to cry and I had to go sit at the back table because I was yelling in the lunch room”. At this point I couldn’t even look at her – thank God there was no toilet paper and I had to send her to the other bathroom to get some. Before she returned I managed to compose myself. She came back and continued to tell me that she explained what happened to her teacher and “she made all those kids come to the front of the class and apologize – I bet that teaches them”. I told her that I agreed and to go outside and play. She left and I almost fell on the floor laughing. The DRAMA that an 8 year old has to deal with is just unbelievable!
While I was thinking about how silly all of this was my alter ego began to remember my own childhood and a similar situation where I didn’t talk to my very best friend for 3 days because she had cut the very tip of the corner of a piece of paper I was coloring on – I mean the nerve of that girl!
It made me realize how we (as girls) are genetically predispositioned to completely blow things out of proportion. I mean, at 8 it’s someone cutting your paper or saying you like some boy (that you actually do like). At 15, our mothers are stupid and could NEVER possibly understand what we are going through. At 25, men are stupid and would never make it out the door with their heads and keys if it weren’t for us. At 33, the stupid heifer in front of us in the 20 item or less line with her 22 items is the whole reason that the world is at war in Iraq. I just can’t wait until I’m 50 – I bet I find out that child proof caps cause global warming!!
Well, I’ve got to get – I’m anxious to find out what kind of horrors my child had to endure today in the treacherous 3rd grade today. Hopefully she didn’t punch someone for saying she had brown hair!
I must first let you know that Baby Girl is just starting to come out of her shell. I attribute this to having Honey in her life and to Cheerleading. She has always been a little on the weepy side and would start to cry if you looked at her wrong. She is very big on protecting her “private life” which includes everything from who her “boyfriend” is to her zipper being down in public. EVERYTHING pertaining to her is her “private life” and should NEVER be spoken about aloud. (Thank Heaven she can’t get online alone!)
Our neighbor to the back has a son (we’ll call him Spike). Spike is really cute and in Baby Girl’s class. For months we’ve been hearing from Prissy and Diva that Baby Girl “likes” Spike. Every time one of them would bring up Spike – Baby Girl would yell “You’re lying”, go to her room and slam the door. If I dared ask what was wrong – the tears would begin and she would tell me it was her “private life and they’re lying”. Ok – I know I’m old but I know that is code for “I wish they wouldn’t tell you that I like this boy”. I explained to Baby Girl that they were just teasing her and it didn’t matter if it were true or not. If she wanted to like Spike then just like him and tell Prissy and Diva to jump off a cliff.
When I got home from work on Halloween, Baby Girl pulled me in the bathroom to tell me something. She sat me down on the side of the tub, crossed her hands across her chest and proceeds to tell me, “I told Spike yesterday that I liked him and today at school, he told me he likes me back. So, he is my boyfriend and I don’t want you and Daddy to make jokes about it – OK”. I didn’t know if I should just go to my room or what. I was felling very much that the roles had been reversed and I was being corrected by my 8 year old. I did what any self respecting mother in this situation would do – I said, “Yes ma’am”, got up and left the room so I could laugh.
On Tuesday, Baby Girl came home with a new piece of jewelry. It would seem that Spike had presented his new Love with a pretty, pink, beaded necklace. Now, where Spike acquired these precious gems, I haven’t a clue but if his sister winds up knocking on my door I won’t be surprised. Anyway – she is now sporting a necklace that Spike gave her and will NOT take it off and all seems to be wonderful in her new world.
Thursday, I arrive home and am informed by Honey that I NEED to ask Baby Girl about her day. I call out to Baby Girl and tell her that I am going to the potty but want to hear about her day when I get finished. Of course – she follows me into the bathroom because as a 33 year old woman, I am incapable of peeing by myself. She proceeds to tell me about her day. It begins with a deep sigh and hands on her hips. She also has this way of not actually looking at you when she talks – she kind of talks to whatever is on the ceiling behind you. So there she was – really giving the ceiling a very serious look, hands on her hips. She took a really deep breath and said, “Mamma – some of the kids at school today were teasing me at lunch and they were getting on my last nerve. They finally ran right over it and I SNAPPED and went off!” Being that I am old, my first question was, “ran over what”. “MY NERVE”, she said. “Oh”. I said. “What were they saying?” (At this point I am trying hard to keep a straight face). “They were saying, “Spike and Baby Girl were supposed to get married yesterday” and I just WENT OFF”. Through a clenched jaw I asked, “What did you say to them?” “I yelled at them and told them to ZIP IT! (Finger pointed) I told them that I didn’t want to here it anymore and that they needed to LEAVE ME ALONE!”. “Then I started to cry and I had to go sit at the back table because I was yelling in the lunch room”. At this point I couldn’t even look at her – thank God there was no toilet paper and I had to send her to the other bathroom to get some. Before she returned I managed to compose myself. She came back and continued to tell me that she explained what happened to her teacher and “she made all those kids come to the front of the class and apologize – I bet that teaches them”. I told her that I agreed and to go outside and play. She left and I almost fell on the floor laughing. The DRAMA that an 8 year old has to deal with is just unbelievable!
While I was thinking about how silly all of this was my alter ego began to remember my own childhood and a similar situation where I didn’t talk to my very best friend for 3 days because she had cut the very tip of the corner of a piece of paper I was coloring on – I mean the nerve of that girl!
It made me realize how we (as girls) are genetically predispositioned to completely blow things out of proportion. I mean, at 8 it’s someone cutting your paper or saying you like some boy (that you actually do like). At 15, our mothers are stupid and could NEVER possibly understand what we are going through. At 25, men are stupid and would never make it out the door with their heads and keys if it weren’t for us. At 33, the stupid heifer in front of us in the 20 item or less line with her 22 items is the whole reason that the world is at war in Iraq. I just can’t wait until I’m 50 – I bet I find out that child proof caps cause global warming!!
Well, I’ve got to get – I’m anxious to find out what kind of horrors my child had to endure today in the treacherous 3rd grade today. Hopefully she didn’t punch someone for saying she had brown hair!
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