First, I must say that blogging is really interesting. I now have international followers! With that in mind, I must say this – I will now include “players” at the beginning of each blog (if necessary) for those unfamiliar with me and mine.
Players: Nirvana, my 14 year old daughter. Wayne, my husband and Nirvana’s father.
Conversations between Nirvana and I are at best interesting and honest. I try to and hopefully succeed at teaching, preachin’, praying, training, informing, bothering, annoying, and learning as well. I always let her know I can learn from her, “because I don’t know everything and need to hear” her 14 year old’s perspective. She thinks her mother is so smart and sometimes, heck, I think I am too. There are subjects I’m not as familiar with (but try to answer anyway) and if they come to mind before I finish this post, I’ll mention ’em. At times when I’m uncertain or don’t know how to initially respond to a situation, I honestly tell her, “I don’t know that one, babe,” or “let me think about it for a minute,” which she’ll find hard to believe.
For me, it could be the time of day that makes the difference between knowing and not knowing. If it’s in the A.M. before brushing my teeth, I really don’t know because I’m not ready to part my sticky mouth. If it’s during my Young & the Restless time, I may not know then, and she’ll say, “But it’s on DVR, Mom!” I shrug and realize, she’s right. I turn it off and we talk (Wayne would ab-so-lute-ly cringe and shake his head if he knew how real our talks were). Because she and I converse daily like we’re on a talk show, the few times I just mentioned about my ignorance is nothing compared to how often we get it in.
This particular topic came up when I showed her a photo of us from five years ago (if I knew how to add photos in a blog, I would have done so; someone let me know if I can). At that time she was going through her awkward stage where she didn’t like the hairstyle I forced upon her (I thought the afro puffs were cute and ethnic – oh, well), her weight, how she looked in her clothes, blah, blah, blah. But she only feels that way about her former self because she’s now a lovely swan and can’t appreciate the awkwardness she had to go through to get where she is now. Teenagers!
I spilled my guts by defending the hair style and that the clothes were age appropriate as was that nine year old chubbiness. She’d prefer I get rid of all awkward stage photos – told her she could forget that; not gonna do it! So, to make her feel better, I then explained that I too, have gone through awkward stages. As a matter of fact I was going through one on the day of conversation – told her I still have days where I may not like my look (maybe I should update my wardrobe). Don’t get me wrong, I’m still cute though, but I have to be honest with my kid to let her know it’s okay and normal to not feel or look your best. I told her, “You’re just looking at a photo from years ago and last week I felt that way about myself, and again today.” I stated it matter-of-factly; not like I was obsessed with gloom about it. I explained that no matter how old you get, it never ends and it’s all in how we handle it. There will always be a prettier, smarter, slimmer or thicker, version of you who will do better, have longer hair/weave, dress nicely, travels – the list goes on. You’ll wonder why someone else’s life seems better than yours when they could be the scum of the earth. Little does she know that some folks have it so bad, they NEVER get out of that mode – hence depression, but I wasn’t going into all of that. But on the real, isn’t there something about all of us that we would change if we could? You’ll see my list coming up next.
She had brought up the subject and was going to get an earful (sometimes she regrets starting a conversation or asking a question). I did mention – because I think it’s worth it – that some women are not satisfied with the way they look even in their 40’s & 50’s (yeah, I know it’s in each decade, but I tried to simplify. She thinks that older folks should have their ish together). Some are still consumed or concerned with how much better someone else looks – “even ya mother!” Sure, I told her I’d love to have a more curvaceous butt, a back that doesn’t hurt, boobs that are more in the direction of north than south, and able to do things with my body that I can ONLY dream of (can you say contortionist? Wayne would be a happier man!). She’s not surprised by my admission because she’s heard me say it all before and I’m fine with it. I told her it’s okay to admire another female because there’s something that someone admires in her.
Bottom line is even though she understands that everyone has gone through and may still be going through their own form of awkwardness – she still wants those pictures burned!
writing is my thang 