Like most people, I appreciate a good four-letter word. I try to use a modicum of discernment around my kids, but let’s just say my language has helped them build a robust word bank to tap into for just about any situation. For the most part, their language didn’t faze me – until the day my daughter used the C word.
Let me back up. She dropped her phone. Cracked the screen. It wasn’t a surprise. In fact, I was astonished the phone remained intact as long as it did.
“Oops, that was the third time today I dropped my phone.”
See what I mean?
She refused to use a drop-proof case. She scoffed at the suggestion of applying an extra layer of protective glass. She didn’t carry a purse, yet the phone traveled wherever she went, often barely tucked into the back pocket of her jeans or precariously perched in the palm of her hand.
She’s at the age where I can’t micro-manage anymore. I’ve attempted to raise kids with minds of their own, encouraging them to be leaders instead of followers, assuming that those kids grow up to be interesting self-actualized adults. The caveat is that kids with minds of their own are not always the easiest to parent.
So she didn’t listen to my suggestions and she broke her phone. Just like I said she would. This is why I am grateful for what the parenting literature calls “natural consequences.”
When I saw the cracked phone, it took every ounce of self-restraint I had not to skip around the house singing, “Neener neener neener I told you so. Now it’s your problem, sucker. Listen to your old mom next time. I’m not as dumb as I look.”
Instead, we talked about those pesky natural consequences. Well, I talked. She mostly rolled her eyes. I explained that I would drive her to the store but she was going to be the one to chat with the sales clerk and gather the information necessary to figure out the most cost effective way to fix her phone.
Then she dropped the C word:
“So I just go in there and be cute?”
No! You go in there and be CONFIDENT. You go in there and be COMPETENT. You ask intelligent questions and make an informed decision. CUTE? Where did that come from? Who is this kid?
Well, she’s a 13 year-old girl. And she’s discovering the power of pretty.
It’s a fine line, especially at this age when self-confidence swells and shrinks faster than Taylor Swift’s list of frenemies. I want my daughter to recognize and appreciate her beauty while at the same time understand the difference between recognizing it and relying on it. While the former might bolster confidence, the latter is simply a crutch – an unstable one at best.
So what’s an overthinking mother to do? Acknowledge what’s in front of her – an undeniable cuteness – while coaxing out the more lasting qualities that will serve her daughter long after the cuteness shtick gets old. I gave it my best shot.
To her credit, after I stopped lecturing, my daughter walked into the store, used her big kid voice and got the information she needed — no hair twirling, uptalking or giggling necessary. She eventually paid half the insurance deductible with money she earned over the summer and got a replacement phone.
These days, her new phone is carefully ensconced in a sensible drop-proof case instead of a super cute pink plastic one. Substance over style. A choice I hope she makes again and again.