>Limbo
>Last night, my 12-year-old stepdaughter underwent a mall metamorphosis.
I had dropped her and a friend off at our sad excuse for a neighborhood shopping center at 5pm. Makeupless, elf-sized, hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, eyes peering out from behind funky little glasses, you would have thought she was closer to 10 than to 13. And that was just fine with me.
But when her dad brought her home a few hours later she had transformed from a little duckling into a… an almost-teenaged duckling. After three hours of gossiping with her friends and chatting with acne-pocked adolescent boys, she entered the kitchen with a self-conscious swagger.
“Like, you’ll never believe who I ran into,” she said.
Immediately, my Mo’ Money Mom Alarm went off. “Where are your glasses?!” I asked in horror.
“Oh, they’re in my purse,” she said, patting it where it dangled from her elbow.
Great, I thought. So she’s been walking around the mall BLIND for three hours What the….? Quickly, I tried to recover the conversation before she sensed my dismay.
“So, who did you see at the mall?”
“Andy Malloy!” she shouted. “What a nerd! And he kept trying to talk to me!”
Carefully, she flipped a long, thick piece of hair out of her face. I realized with shock that the look was intentional. She had taken the front piece of waist-length hair from her ponytail, the piece that would’ve, could’ve, should’ve been bangs, and hung it over to one side. It looked. Well. It looked. Awkward. Then I noticed the black mascara gooped onto her long, little girl eyelashes. When had that happened?
As 12 continued chattering, I entered the addled mother zone. Part of me wanted to clutch her to me and tell her it would be okay and she would one day leave all this behind her.
And part of me wanted to say, “Are you crazy? What happened to your no-miss eclectic fashion sense? Have you completely lost your mind?“
Now. Before you dismiss me as just another wicked stepmother, you should know that my head was spinning because looking at her was like looking at myself 18 years ago.
In seventh grade, I was in that very same limbo of no longer a girl/not yet a woman that 12 is in now. But instead of waist-length hair, I was growing mine out of an awkward bob that did my chipmunk face no favors. I kept my bangs hairsprayed into an unmoving feathered arc over my forehead. I wore my mom’s discarded silver eyeshadow and Clinique Mauve Crystal lipstick and hoped I looked hot. But judging from the sheepish smile I wore in my junior high yearbook, I wasn’t even fooling myself.
My mom let me know how she felt with the pat phrase she’d pull out (a phrase she still uses on me, by the way), whenever my attempts at fashion hit a sour note.
“Well,” she’d sigh. “If that’s the way you want to present yourself….”
Ugh. I still cringe thinking about those words. And I don’t want 12 to have those kinds of memories about me. So I’m trying my best to stay cool. Unconcerned.
“You know, your hair might look really good with long bangs in front, if you ever want to do something like that,” I said casually last night as we talked. “I can tell by the piece you have here that it would be awesome. If you. You know. For some reason wanted a hair cut.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “That might look good.”
Mentally, I made plans to set an appointment as soon as I could find a stylist who would make her feel like a rock star. And maybe take her for a department store makeover while we were at it.
I think she’ll like that. I think the girl in the yearbook would’ve liked that, too.
>Sigh. You’ve brought back memories of my own slightly dorkish pre-teen years – what a yucky time; I wouldn’t re-live it for all the tea in China!And I often have the urge to stage similar interventions with the equally awkward 12’s in our midst – how to tell the daughter of our next door neighbours that bright pink smeary lipstick is all wrong for her?
>Oh, you are a wonderful wicked step-mom. Very nice, Lucinda. You have a big heart in addition to that wicked sense of humor- a lovely combo. I think girls are just frankly bizarre between, like, 12 and17, ya know?
>I think that’s awesome how you handled her hair issues. Clever too. She’s lucky to have you…
>I wouldn’t go back to being 13 again for all the cash in the world! You are a very good step-mom, Lucinda!
>I like that as well. You know she is going to want to do this stuff, teach her how to do it correctly.
>It seems everyone had awkward even unhappy child-to-adult transformations. Some of us never live them down. . . Just today I had a 90 minute phone call with my 47 year old mother about how awful her own child/teenhood was. And the entire time I sat there uh-huhing along, I thought to myself: I wish your own youth hadn’t twisted you so badly, so that I could tell you half the things you said or did in my adolescence that still grates away at my normalcy to this very day. But I can’t because you plate of self pity is too full to unload any of my crap onto it. Ah well, that’s not what mother’s are for anyway, right? Unloading crap onto that is. Yeesh, not at all what I intended on commenting. Original thought to your post: I think it’s damn good to read that you’ve gone so far as to pick & choose the right way to broach the subject of having better style (or a style more attuned to her) to your step-daughter. Like it or hate it, in an average public high school (or local mall) appearances matter. I wish I’d had a tactful mother. Your girls’ are lucky, for so many reasons.
>ugh, I remember that stage all too well. Except I, like you, was growing out a dreadful pixie cut from 7th grade, so I didn’t even have any hair to work with…I could still kill my mom for giving me that damn haircut…. lol
>I too have a 12 year old daughter. Some days I can see her so clearly poised on the threshold between girl and woman (thanks Britney for making that feel cheap and sleazy now!) You sound like a caring, thoughtful person …
>You guys are really kind. I still feel guilty about the thoughts that go through my mind about her fashion choices, though. I had always thought that I would be more ‘Oh, isn’t that cute?’ than ‘Oh no, please tell me you’re not serious.’ R*A*, I was just thinking about you yesterday and wondering how you were doing. Let me know if you get a new blog.
>You are a better woman than I! I was so ready to throw out the “If that’s how you want to present yourself line…” but you handled it perfectly. I hope I am that cool when Ella goes through all of this!
>Awesome.
>Oh how I would have killed for someone to take me for a department store makeover!! She may not appreciate it now, but she will later when her own 12 year old starts making the same mistakes.
>hay ur a good soundin mom :o)
>Oh, we are so close to being there around here.
>You rock!
>OMG I was that kid, back in the day too. ‘Cept my coolness came from my mother’s hand me down PURPLE LEATHER boots and RABBIT FUR jacket that kids pulled clumps of hair from. I WAS HOT SHIT. I so need to blog about that sometime.
>screw the bobs, you should be in the running for hippest stepmom of the year award. and if you’re free, i could use a hair/make-up/wardrobe consultation.
>I think you are handling it all very well. My oldest is going to be 16 {someone shoot me} this year. Luckily she is so not a typical teenage girl, doesn’t care much about looks and clothes…don’t get me wrong she can still be girlie but being raised by her dad I think she is more tomboyish. Anyway, my 8 year old, now she is a different story…she is probably closer to 12 right now. I don’t know what I will do when she actually is 12. I’m in trouble. Maybe we will still know each other and you can give me pointers! ha!
>My teenager – aged 14, soon t be 15 – is such a girlie girl and I wasn’t at that age that I sometimes wonder if she wasn’t swapped with another baby at the hospital.For her 13th birthday party I arranged for her and her guests to learn the proper way to wear make-up. We booked out the stylist at the local day spa for a couple of hours and walked the girls down. I figured if they were going to be wearing it, they ought to learn how to do it without looking like prostitutes.
>The last haircut I got I looked like a Crystal Ball, because my big brother cut it all off by mistake.I wanted to ask my Mom if she could take me to the Barbara to get a haircut, but she was to busy chasing Dad around the house yelling “I’m gona squish you, you little runt!”, then she caught him, and he got squashed! My big brother then asked me “What’s up my little buttercup?”, so I said “Sally called and said she’s coming today, and I need a hair cut”, so he said “No problem, I’ll skin ya”, and we went to the bathroom. I then sat on the toilet, but not to use it, and he wrapped toilet paper around my body and asked me “How do you want it”, so I said “cut”, so he said “alrighty then, I’ll give you my special, close your eyes”, so I did, and he started to use the hair clipper, and in one minute he was done. I then looked in the mirror and saw all my hair was gone, then my big brother said “Sorry, I had a little problem with the klippers”, so I said “that’s ok, that can happen to anybody”, then he spread baby oil on my head and said “Your done”, and I looked shiny!Anyways, Congratulations in winning Best Mommy Blog at the BOB Awards, Lucinda! I hope you are having a nice weekend, and make alot of money remaking a department store. I’m sure you’re a great interior designer!
>Um. Okay. Thanks.
>You are not only a wonderful mother but a super step mother. Seriously, I’m impressed. Oh, how I needed a make over at 12 but my mother, who has always needed a makeover, had no clue. I take my 10 year old to get a pedicure every so often and she loves it. Why shouldn’t we pamper our girls???
>When I was about that age, I was wearing way too much Bonne Bell gel blush (ew) and purple eyeshadow, trying to learn how to correctly apply it from magazines designed to give girls a distorted self-image. You’re clearly taking a proactive approach in offering hair suggestions and planning to take your stepdaughter someplace where she can learn how to properly use makeup to enhance (instead of mask) her youthful good looks. Good on you, lady. ;^)
>What a good idea…but with THREE girls..yes, folks, you did read that correctly, between 12 and 10 (one word – twins) can I wait a little getting out the big bucks?please? Give me HOPE here….Minerva
>Just found your blog, thanks to BoB!!It’s nice to know I’m not the only 24/7 evil stepmother. Thanks for writing!
>Lucinda, your stepdaughters are lucky to have you. You are so involved in their lives, by choice, and it’s obvious you have a very maternal relationship to them (some stepmoms don’t have that – and I struggle with that a great deal with both of my stepkids).
>Very blessed girls to have you to guide them into young adulthood. You rock as the wycked stepmother, Lu.
>Ugh. I’m not looking forward to those days with In-fant. I barely got through those awkward years. How am I supposed to guide her through them? Maybe I’ll call you.
>You know, I would have died to have my mom do that for me. My mom was so prude, so awkward, so NOT fashionable–and I was such a dork–with that same hairspray wave in my 7th grade picture. I wore leggings, I think–and then a few years later body suits and baggy baggy jeans. The 12 year old in me was SO jealous reading this post. And the mom in me was taking notes. You rock, Lucinda.
>You are a very good mommy!!xoLadyBug
>What a step-mom!Last year I took my 12 year old, before she entered school, to have her eyebrows done and showed her the fine art of makeup. Then this summer she got the cool haircut. She was thrilled and looks fab.Now if I could just help her pick out some new friends. Whew! What an age!~