We went out to go shopping the other morning as a family and I was just wearing a t-shirt, jeans and my converse. Then, of course, my daughter walks down all decked out and looking AWESOME. I looked at her and thought, Crap. I can’t go out looking like a slob if she looks like she just walked of a CW TV show. So I went and changed and put a bit more effort into my outfit. My hair and face still looked awful (bun, no makeup) but my outfit was at least cute.

And you know what happened? We were stopped, interviewed, and photographed for the newspaper. They were doing coverage of local shoppers and we ended up being on of the families they photographed for the paper. It was a COLOR photo. In the FIRST section of the paper.

So…you know…thank you, Nikki. For motivating me to try to look a little nicer when I step out in public. One of these days I’ll make that decision on my own without your influence, but until then, thanks.

The Saturday before I flew to Baltimore, E took Nikki to see Shrek The Musical with a couple of his friends. As the story goes, Nikki basically projectile vomited while sitting in her seat inside the theatre DURING the show.

E immediately broke into PARENT MODE, grabbed her in a basket hold and ran out of the theatre. When they got in the lobby she continued puking in the garbage can while volunteers in the lobby stood by not really knowing how to help. He was really needing another pair of hands, but no one seemed to want to join THAT party. Part of me understands…PUKING CHILD! RUNNNNN! But another part of me sees a teenage boy trying to care for a sick little girl and wonders why NO ONE stepped up.

Eventually he made it to the bathroom where he was getting her out of her puke-covered clothes when an EMT came in. Evidently the workers in the lobby decided THAT was the help he needed. An ambulance. He frustratingly explained that he didn’t need medical attention, but a glass of water would be nice.

His friends were there to help him when he came out of the bathroom. He had taken off his button-up shirt and put his sister in it while he put her puke-covered clothes in a garbage bag. His friends sat with his sister while he ran, probably half a mile or more, to the minivan that was parked quite a ways away. He got her home and told me what all had happened. I had two thoughts:

1) OH MY GOD. I have the most AMAZING teenager EVER. Seriously? Can you BELIEVE IT? He totally rocked out an awful situation like a superstar.

2) OH MY GOD. Better him than me.

Six years ago I gave birth this rotten child.

What? Oh. It’s her birthday, I’m supposed to be sweet and loving, right?

It’s funny, I read a lot about providing strong role models for young girls so that we have more Veronica Roths (What? I’m a YA Fiction nut, of course she’s my Go-To Young Awesome Female) and less Kim Kardashians in 15 years. While I’m certain I’m doing my part encouraging Nikki to be strong and independent, she is also teaching ME that there’s nothing wrong with clothes and makeup. She spent two hours last night playing in a 1st Grade workbook her Mimi gave her for her birthday, but she also obsesses over what to wear every day. I’m learning a valuable less from her – princesses and professionals are not mutually exclusive. We don’t have to teach them to be one or the other, turns out they’re born to be BOTH.

She has made me a better person in every sense of the word, and I’ll do my best to remember this in 8 years when she’s cursing for not letting her wear sweatpants with “CUTIE” written across the ass.

Happy Birthday, my Math-Loving Fashion Diva. Thank you for teaching me that clothes can be fun. My converse needed a break.

Like my workplace.

I’m continuing to put her to bed earlier to try to help her with the no-nap schedule, but she still often seems overly exhausted. I hate it because I’m just like that…I really need my sleep. Since I get up so early, I have to go to bed early. One or two nights that I’m unable to do that? I must schedule a nap to catch up or else I’m worthless.

But most Kindergarteners stopped taking naps a long time ago, and if not they’ve at least adjusted by now.

At least it gives me a nap buddy on the weekends.

Now…on to brag about my DAUGHTER! She ran the Autumn Chase yesterday. It’s just a 1-mile fun run, but it’s a huge event kids from all over the city attend. As legend has it, Donnie won a medal in 1st grade from doing the mile in 7 minutes plus some.

Nikki had never run a mile straight before yesterday, but we were pretty confident she could do it. Wes went first, and finished in 17 minutes (he walked/ran the whole thing by himself!) so she had been running for a few minutes when he finished. I picked him up and ran back along the course to find her. When I got to her, she was already zapped, having sprinted too hard at first. One of the high-school aged pacers was with her, trying to encourage her. I started screaming for her and y’all? SHE STARTED RUNNING AGAIN.

(Yes. I AM trying to take some of the credit for her success. What?)

She was SPENT, guys. I could tell. By the half-mile point she was practically crying. I was running along cheering my heart out for her because I could tell it helped. When she got to the last stretch I left Wes with Donnie and ran the whole way with her and she was miserable. BUT SHE NEVER STOPPED. NEVER. She just PUSHED herself like she had no choice.

It was AWESOME. Crazy, but AWESOME.

She was corralled for a bit and feeling that post-race misery. We got her water and then headed to the pavillion to listen to awards. By our count, she came in THIRD but we didn’t want to get her hopes up. We knew she was top 10 so we knew she’d get a special ribbon, but we held out telling her about the medal until they announced 4th place. Then we KNEW she had come in third.

When they called her name? I CRIED. Not because she got third, but because she showed a sense of determination during that run that was AMAZING. She didn’t get that from me. I’m good…but I don’t have that Push Myself To The Point Of Puking thing. That’s ALL Donnie, there. But I’m just as proud of her for showing it as I am when he races and I see that side of him.

That’s my girl, there. On the WINNER’S PODIUM. No longer wishing she were dead and feeling DAMN PROUD of herself.

As she should.

Oh, and then she went on to play a soccer game. WHERE SHE SCORED A GOAL. Yeah. That’s all her Dad, right there. I push myself, but I also know when it’s time to stop pushing and turn on an episode of ‘The Vampire Diaries.’

That VERY SAME DAY, I had my first Parent/Teacher conference with Nikki’s teacher where I discovered the lie my daughter had been living.

Several times a week these first 3 weeks of school, Nikki has had homework. Some nights it seemed very normal, albeit boring. A half-sheet of paper with lines of letters to circle. Took her about 15 seconds and sometimes I felt like I could see eraser marks where she had erased circles and re-drawn them. Other nights it was more interactive. One night she had a half-sheet of paper with letters on it and we went around the house finding words that started with each letter. She put a hatch mark down and we discovered which letter was more “popular” in our house. And then she made Donnie sign the paper because, for some reason, that’s what we were supposed to do. Then Monday night’s homework was to draw her “Favorite Thing To Do”. She was listing all of the pages she was going to draw before I pointed out that if the homework was to draw her favorite, then maybe she should pick ONE. She did, and drew a picture of herself playing with her toys.

The next morning is when things got a little fishy.

Nikki, put your homework in your notebook.
I don’t need to take it to school.
How will Ms. B know you did it, then?
I’ll just tell her.
Are you sure she doesn’t want to actually see it?
Yeah.

Well. At this parent/teacher conference I learned why. THERE HAS BEEN NO HOMEWORK GIVEN. EVER. AT ALL. Now, these half-sheets of paper that look like wimpy homework? She gives those to Nikki sometimes because Nikki asks for homework. But the teachers are all supposed to use the same curriculum and they’re not giving out homework yet in Kindergarten so she just improvised with Nikki and periodically gives her these half sheets which – she told me – Nikki almost always completes before even leaving the building. So then what does she do? ERASES THE ANSWERS so she can do them again.

When I told her teacher about the other “homework” we’d been doing, she was very impressed. “Those are some GREAT ideas! I may use those later.”

We didn’t get onto her for lying, how could we? “You are grounded for lying about having homework!” Although we did discuss better ways to accomplish the same thing. That if she just TOLD use she wanted to do these things, we’d let her. We don’t ONLY allow homework in this house, and all other work is banned. We know she just wants to be like big brother, who thinks the whole thing is insane since he can never imagine a world where you would WANT to do homework.

To which I replied, “It’s because you’re too pretty.”

Nikki is in school now. And while she probably isn’t any different than she was two weeks ago, I feel like she is so much older. Talking about hot lunches and recess. P.E. and the Library. Being teased and making friends. Two weeks and suddenly I feel like she is no longer my little girl.

She’s always had a tendency to act older. She has a teenage brother so she has a lot of contact with teenagers. Add in my tendency to let her watch shows like Glee with me, and she has always cared more about style and attitude than my 5 year olds. This is both hysterical and dreadful.

But something about school. The things she talks about just make her seem like she grew up over night. She was simply outraged that no one even considered the possibility that she could have gone to the Katy Perry concert on Friday with E when a ticket became available. I mean…COME ONE. Why not?

Am I just imagining things? Did you see school make a difference any in your child’s maturity and attitude? Did it suddenly feel like they were years older?

Guess What? WE LOST A TOOTH! Well, we lost a tooth the old-fashioned way. I don’t remember a “loose” tooth becoming so loose so fast with E, but was just a few weeks ago where she was claiming it was loose at school and trying to get it out by throwing a ball at her own face.

YES. I said that. She was throwing a ball at her own face to try to get her tooth out. YES. That’s my daughter.

That day it wasn’t even that loose. I could barely feel it wiggle. And then, suddenly, last night she pulls it out herself! Donnie helped her out a bit but the look on her face when she pulled it out that last little bit? PRICELESS. I wish I had thought to videotape it because it was a combination of shock, horror, and EUPHORIA.

She was beyond proud of herself and she couldn’t stop talking about it. She was pretending she was a vampire as the blood was dripping from her mouth. She was recounting the last seconds of connectivity over and OVER again. She was doing crazy dances and hypothesizing methods used by the tooth fairy to bring her the REWARD. It was AWESOME.

The lesson I pass on to you? If you think your child is about to pull out their own teeth? START VIDEOTAPING.

What I’m seeing is a desire to take something NORMAL and add some FLARE. So you know what that means? It means she’s ready for the next level of fashion.

I’m going to take her thrifting this weekend. I think it’s about time. I think she’s going to be the kid that would way prefer $20 spent at Goodwill than $40 at Target. I think she’s going to choose unique and creative over standard and safe. And do you know what this means? The best part about all of this? That if I encourage her now, give her time to really hone her skills and her vision, SHE CAN DRESS ME! I’m on the road to having my own personal stylist…and I’m going to milk it for all it’s worth.

Now, if only she would learn how to do makeup. I’d be a whole new woman.

I just love this picture. I love that she looks so natural doing this because it gives me hope that she’ll navigate the waters of femininity better than I did. I used to blame being raised by a Man in a house with a Brother and no other female for my inadequacy in that department. However, Nikki only has ME and she seems to be doing better at the age of 5 than I am at 35, so I think some of those tendencies must be innate. I’m thrilled they’re there inside her, because it gives ME someone to learn from, even at this age. She has taught me more about being a girl in the 2 years since she’s been developing her own style, than I ever learned in the 30+ years prior.