Growing Up
When Lena started middle school last year, I was prepared for our lives to change drastically. I remembered sixth, seventh and eighth grades and realizing that my world was completely different than it had been when I was in elementary school. I expected the normal developmental havoc wreaked by hormones to be compounded in our home because I was going back to college and our lives were changing in many ways.
I waited through Lena’s fall semester for things to shift, and then through the spring. With the exception of her school day starting earlier, things felt pretty much the same. She did get a crush or two during the school year, but there were plenty of things that kept us close. Lena had a vicious case of chicken pox in February that made her more helpless than she’s been since toddlerhood. In March, we bought our house. It was in pretty rough shape and I spent weeks working to make the house livable before we moved in. Lena came with me every day she wasn’t in school and spent some evenings helping out, too. She worked so hard her little muscles ached. The day of our move, she asked to stay home from school to help and I let her. It was the longest moving day I’ve ever had and she stayed right with me. When summer started we felt closer than we had in years. I think I took my eye off the ball.
But the shift came anyway. Lena spent a week at Girl Scout camp and a week in Chicago with a family friend being a mother’s helper. She babysat for the family across the street and made a fairly decent income. When she spent her money, it was almost always on clothes for the upcoming school year or treats for the whole family to share. Her growing sense of responsibility was obvious, as was her constantly changing shape. She was not going to be my little girl for much longer.
Three days before school started, I was buzzing the sides and back of Jeffrey’s hair when Lena appeared in front of me with a nervous smile. “I want a haircut, too.” I told her to get her hair wet and wait a few minutes. She’s had shiny brown hair hanging down her back for years. To be honest, it was the hair I had always wanted! She came back in the room just a minute later, but her hair was still dry.
“No haircut after all?” I asked her
.She smiled again. “Umm, I want it short. Really short. Like with the buzzers.”
We began the discussion of whether or not this was a good idea. I called her father, her aunt and another friend and put her on the phone with them. We all tried to talk her out of it, but she was set. She wanted it short. That was that. In the end, I decided it was a good lesson in consequences. As so many people have said, “It’s only hair.” It would grow back.<./p>
So I cut her hair short, to get it ready for the electric clippers. Then I started. At first I was focused on the work, getting the hair even, making sure the bangs stayed long in front. After about half an hour (I’m no pro, though I can do a pretty good job if I just take my time), I took a good look at her. She was beautiful. The super-short hair suited her perfectly. Returning to the kitchen after her shower, she waved her hand down her outfit and said, “I look hot.” Then she blushed and said, “I mean… you know, Mom…”
That’s when I knew this was going to be the year of big changes, and I was right. Lena has a blossoming social life that involves Girl Scouts, roller skating, ice skating, going to movies and sleeping over at friends’ houses. There have been a few weekends when we’ve hardly seen her at all. When she’s home, she talks to her friends on the phone and hangs out in her bedroom. This is the normal separation of a 12-year-old, and while I help pace it, I understand.
And even though she’s eager to be her own person, she is still working hard to keep one foot in the doorway of her childhood, at least for now. She asks to snuggle up, plays Polly Pocket with her little sister and helps her brother learn to ride his bike. The other day, she said with tears in her eyes, “We hardly ever get to spend time together as a family!” We made a pact that she would stay home all weekend and we would hang out. After all, who knows how much longer this precious, temporary moment will last?
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