Daughters are special–any mother will agree. There is a feminine bond that develops–eventually. A kinship of womanly wiles and woes that are shared over the decades–hopefully.
Most of us are familiar with the saying: A son is your son until he takes a wife, a daughter is your daughter for the rest of your life.
This unique bond takes many years to develop, growing and thriving if nurtured.
When our daughters are toddlers, we put them in ruffles and bows–our little real-live dress-up dolls. They don’t complain too much at that age.
Elementary age daughters make us remember our own childhoods. Soccer practice, softball, riding lessons, dance lessons–my daughters had a wide variety– I was a modern mom! And modern moms understand the many ways that sports teaches a girl important skills and life lessons.
Next comes the pre-teen gawky years. Our daughters feel the need to be different than mom, to establish their own identity. This is where the trouble begins.
The early teen years are the most challenging–at least, that seems to be the general consensus.
Our daughters experiment with make up ( heavy black eyeliner, green eye shadow) and hair color.
Expect:
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temper tantrums
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moodiness
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door slammming
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glaring
and that’s just from mom!
The teenage years are when a mom shows her daughter the ‘art of pimple concealment’ and commiserates when she complains that her hair sticks to lip gloss. We sympathize when ‘that time of the month’ comes at the worst possible time. We agree whole heartedly that “boys are stupid” and explain the tragic consequences of washing jeans with lipstick still in the pocket.
We may demonstrate age-old flirting techniques, like the classic hair flip, but more than likely we’ll send them back to their room for an outfit change. “You are not going to school in that!”
True story: My 15-yr old and I were walking through Macy’s one afternoon when an older woman stopped us to say how much we resembled one another.
I turned to my daughter. “I look beautiful!”
“I’m hideous!” she cried, ending her good mood for the day.
By the time our daughters are 17, and if we are really, really lucky, they have outgrown the “I hate mom” stage… I don’t know , maybe it has something to do with their needing vast sums of money for all those senior activities!
Finally, we can:
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have fun at the make up counter and give one another honest opinions about a new product
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laugh in the dressing room without anyone taking offense ( “That outfit is awful,mom”)
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dish about “boys” and how their minds think ( or don’t )
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discuss the importance of finding fabulous shoes we can still walk in
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promise to share a darling evening bag
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convince each other of the need for yet another new fangled curling iron
- both agree that Johnny Dep is hot!
Oh sure, my daughters don’t always listen to me! (Although my oldest noted the other day that everything I ever told her was 100% correct.)
All that female bonding aside, there are a few serious consequences of having a teen daughter in the house.Things go missing!
Important female things!
- expensive hair treatments
- hair bands or barrettes
- teasing comb
- nail polish and anything related to nail care
- cotton balls ( Hubby still has no idea why a woman uses so many)
- razors ( I buy a pack of 100 at Costco–the pack is good for about 2 months!)
- bronzer
- perfume
- make-up brushes (“Buy some for me or I’ll keep using yours!”)
- clothes ( if you’re both about the same size)
Truth be told, daughters make us appreciate our own mothers!
Daughters do wonderful things. Not the wonderful things you expected them to do. Different things. Astonishing things. Better than you ever dreamed.–Marion C. Garrett
There’s nothing wrong with teenagers that reasoning with them won’t aggravate.–Author Unknown
A daughter is a new beginning
A daughter is your excuse for making a doll’s house,
A daughter is an awful reminder of the way you behaved at fourteen.
A daughter is the person to whom all that dusty stuff in the attic belongs.
A daughter is the person you thought you would stop worrying about when she hit twenty-one.
But who is still worrying you silly at forty-five.–Pam Brown
An end note: Both daughters will ask why I selected “that” photo!
Related Posts: Mom Musings; London Calling; Snack Happy Son Goes to Costco; Sequestration at my house; First House, Prom poem; Teenagers are useful;
