Friday, June 15, 2012
Like the awesome mom I am I completely failed to remember that a child leaving grade 9 is a bigger deal than a child leaving, say, grade 3.
Last week Cicely came home from school and said "I need $10 for tickets to grade 9 grad."
Me, once again demonstrating how much I pay attention, "okay, here you go."
Fast forward a couple of days. Cicely comes home from school and says, "I have the tickets."
That night, last Thursday, after the man was done not working all day, we went out for dinner. While were were driving to the restaurant I had a flash of my grade 9 grad. The same grad my mom slaved over sewing a mint green satin dress for me. The one where she bought me new shoes and I did my hair all fancy. The one where a group of us grads made big plans to go to a fancy restaurant.
Boys and girls together.
Big deal. For a 14 year old.
HOLY CRAP!!!!!! Holy crap holy crap holyholyholycrapcrapcrap. When is grad??
I called home and Cicely answered the phone. "You said you bought the grad tickets today?" I asked, slightly panicked.
"Yes," she responded.
"Well, when the heck is it??"
"I don't know. Let me get the tickets and check." Long pause.
How does she not know this stuff? And why hasn't she said anything about it? And how is it that I'm allowed to parent FOUR of them???
She came back and said, "next Thursday."
"Next Thursday? That's one week. We have one week to get you ready for grad. Are you going to want a new dress? How fancy is it? What are we supposed to do? Is there a dinner? A dance?"
"Mom, settle. There's a dance but I am not going and you can't make me. I don't want a new dress and I don't think there's a dinner."
"Oh, all right then. I guess we'll talk about it later?"
"Yep, see ya."
So I facebooked a status, a feeler status, to see what was happening with this new era of grade 9 grads. Turns out it is all over the board. Fancy, not fancy, dinner, no dinner, dances, no dances, parents invited, parents not invited.
Monday we went shopping. I told her I would buy her shoes and maybe a top when she agreed to wear one of her new flowy skirts.
My prayer for this night included two things:
1. We make it out alive and, God willing, still talking to each other, and
2. She didn't decide she wanted some hoochie mama, short skirted, sequin ensconced, ill-fitting grade 9 grad gown.
We shopped and shopped and shopped until her eye spotted the purple shift dress. It was simple, to the knee and exactly her. It was $45. It was sleeveless and before I said anything she said she wanted a little sweater to wear over it. I agreed to it all.
Being the the amazing, non complaining, non asking for anything kid she is, when we got to the till she pulled out her wallet. I asked her what she was doing and she said, "checking to see if I brought enough cash."
My kid thought she was buying her own grad dress. Be still my heart. I love that kid.
When I told her I was buying it and the shoes to go with it and the sweater her face lit up. Total disbelief.
I love her.
And then? The icing on the cake? She asked me to do her hair. She found a picture of what she wanted on the internet and I did it for her.
I love her.
I told her I wanted to take her out to dinner but I couldn't that night. I offered to buy her dinner if she wanted something to grab quick on the way home. Her response was classic, and proved beyond even her looks could, that she is, in fact, my daughter.
"Please, oh please can I have a Baconator?"
I love her.
I wanted to get pictures of her with the man and then with me but when we got home she ran downstairs while the man and I sat around in our fancy clothes waiting for her to primp herself so we could get some pictures. She came up with sweats on.
"Hey!! I wanted to take some pictures!"
"Ohhh, mom, do we have to? I already let you take pictures of me eating."
And that, my friends, is grade 9 grad............