Fingernails In My Pencil Box

And for today’s lesson, we will study, reading, writing and red lipstick.  Class, class, let me have your attention, focus, focus!  Through the rustle of notebook paper and the sweet smell of bubble gum lip-gloss, we look through the window of the class of 2021.  The hallway is now a runway and the classroom is the stage.  The bright lights of the school cafeteria are blinding.

Act 1 – And So Are the Days of My Life

I recall my tween years fondly.  I recall that my poor mother had, well, no fashion sense.  If I wanted to be in style, I was going to have to find a way to support myself.  My mom did not know the difference between Prada and Prego.  Really, she meant well, but it was useless.  I remember when she selected a pair of yellow sweats and presented them to me for gym class!  I gasped!  Where, is the label?  I could not even dare to wear anything that was not labeled.  They are labeled, she said, they are “Wranglers!”  I finally began to save my own money and purchased my first pair of Jordache jeans and I was excited.  That horse on my what I believed to be too large African American back side made me so happy.  Ahh, Jordache!  Then, there was my love affair with handbags, yes, it began early.  My first knock off Gucci handbag, I carried it proudly, everyday until I landed my first real Fendi handbag.  So then, why do the actions of today’s youth surprise me? 

Act II  - Mirror Mirror

Enter Justice, Abercrombie, Teen Vogue, Teen People, and all of the other outside influences that simply did not exist.  Next, let’s bring in Disney gone wrong, Britney, Vanessa, Lyndsey, and lest we forget Hanna Nasty Girl Montanna , A.K.A. Miley Cyrus, you name them and they are not the Mickey Mouse Club that I grew up watching after school.  Now, having said that who are our children watching?  Those images in the magazines, those characters on television, are they setting the bar in regards to beauty and character for our children?  Are they forcing are children, especially, our girls to grow up too fast?  Perhaps they are not only setting the bar, but many of them are quite frankly sitting at the bar and displaying their behavior in a very public forum.

Act III – Everybody Else’s Mom Let’s Them Do It

How long does childhood last?  Trying to protect the child, while allowing the girl to bloom, that is the challenge.  What type of flower am I trying to cultivate?  Even a beautiful rose has its thorns.  The thorns I deal with are on the make-up aisle and the teen clothing aisle of every department store.

Saturday’s journey took me to Salley’s Beauty supply.  Once again, I begin the battle of the press on nails.  Now, mind you, it begins with, “Mom, all my friends get their nails done at the salon.”  “Mom, they all have fake nails, it’s not fair.”  Ok, so what, I have seen some of their friends and yes, they do have acrylic nails at 10 and 11 years old.  Buy why, why can’t 10 and 11 year olds grow their own nails?  Next, come the pleas for make-up, in my mind, I am remembering the episode of the Cosby Show, where Vanessa secretly put on make-up at school and got caught upon arriving at home.  Anyway, there was the time, when my oldest, put on a little colored lip-gloss before her school pictures and no one would be the wiser.  That is, until the pictures arrived and my husband called to me.  “Cassie, Cassie, when did this child’s lips get this color and so shiny?”  Oh my, I must have missed that on my way out the door that morning.  Ok, let’s go back to the make-up aisle.  Did I mention the colored hair?  Oh, Oh, I forgot, what about a tattoo, Mom, can I have a tattoo, or a piercing, like my teacher?  Funny, I just don’t remember any of my teachers having a tattoo or a piercing.  They probably just didn’t display it for the world. 

Act  IV – Dr. Spock Didn’t Write This Chapter

Well, I have read a few parenting books in my time.  One piece of advice I have tried to live up to is to pick my battles.  With that, you try to minimize the amount of times that you say no, to the heavy hitter items.  Ok, so I decided that I would give into the press on nails, not acrylic nails, the press on.  Secretly hoping, that they would be such a bother, that she would not wish to keep them on, or that the glue would be a problem.  But, she picked out her nails and put them on one by one, each one with more pride then the last.  Finally, the nails were on and she just knew she looked Beyoncé Fierce.  She picked out her outfit with care and dressed for school the next morning.  She even shared a nail or two with her sister.  The first day of wear for the nails was Monday and to my surprise, the nails made it through school and cheerleading practice.  Well now, I guess she will prove me wrong.  It is now Tuesday and as I assess the situations, which are the nails on her hands, I notice that a few nails are missing.  I ask, “Where, are the nails?”   “Mom, they are in my pencil box.” 

Silly me, where else would a 5^th grader keep her press on nails?