This whole parenting gig is never what you think it will be. Just when you get comfortable and assume you’ve got it all figured out, somebody turns into a teenager and draws doodles all over your rulebook.
OK, so I think my daughter is a pretty girl. She is 14, tall, athletic, and has big beautiful blue eyes. They are her daddy’s big beautiful blue eyes, and I’ve always been somewhat partial to those eyes. So I suppose I am biased. But so is just about every parent out there.
Yes I’m pretty proud of my pretty daughter. It is nice to look at your daughter and think “oh what a pretty little girl,” even when that little girl grows an inch or two taller than you are.
But now those looks are generating a new feeling in the pit of my stomach: fear.
This week Mandy finished the paper work to be a teen volunteer at the Bennett Martin library, located in downtown Lincoln. She will volunteer for about an hour and a half a week, cleaning up, helping with shelving, doing crafts with the little kids, signing up people for the summer reading program (this spring), and performing whatever grunt tasks they throw her way.
As we sat at the table completing the paperwork, I looked around the library. Bennett Martin is a rough place (sorry Carrie, but it is). The first time I went to Bennett Martin I remember that some guy was being arrested and handcuffed across the street when I walked out. A police officer actually had the guy up against a building and was shoving handcuffs on him. Lovely first impression.
There are security guards at this library, one of the few libraries in Lincoln with uniformed security. My sister works at this library full-time, and always has one of the security guards walk her to her car at the end of the day. It closes at 6pm, to help with the crime issues. I guess the security keeps busy breaking up fights or taking care of disorderly visitors, as well as clearing out the bums who wander in to sleep in the stacks during the winter to escape the cold. This year they had a problem when somebody peed all over a section of books back in the stacks. Nice.
My sister has had stalkers and refuses to dress up or wear makeup when she goes to work. However, I think I’ve seen her dress up and wear makeup maybe twice a year, so I don’t know if I believe the whole “work camouflage” theory. (Just because the jeans don’t have any holes in them does not mean they qualify as fancy. And anything you purchase in the Scheels athletic-wear section should not be worn to church.) Tom boys never pass on, they just buy a bigger size of athletic shorts.
As we drive home, Mandy gets talking about how excited she is to be able to volunteer. She is looking forward to spending so much time at the library. It will be awesome to shelf books and work with the little kids in the youth section. It is the perfect volunteer opportunity for her, she says. She can’t wait until she gets her own name tag.
I am so glad that my daughter is excited to be a volunteer. I know that I always feel so good after I read at the nursing home. I’m happy that she wants to do something to help out in her community, as well. I really think that she can do a lot of good at the downtown library. I guess that Bennett Martin currently has only one other youth volunteer, while the other libraries in town are teaming with them. I am happy she will be volunteering in such a multicultural environment. There are families of all different backgrounds that use that library and I know she will love it. She likes to make new friends, especially with people of different backgrounds and languages. I think it started when she attended a large multicultural preschool in town, and had lots of friends at an early age who had English as a second language. I’d caution to say it is why she loves British soccer camp so much, but I rather think that is because of the hot British coaches. She is a sucker for a boy with a British accent.
But as I look at her as we drive home, this fear starts brewing in the pit of my stomach. I don’t know if I want to send my baby to that rough place. I don’t want her to have stalkers following her around the library. This is really out of my comfort zone.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been afraid before as a parent. We’ve had worrisome health issues. She has been to the hospital before and was even in the emergency room when she was attacked by a dog. She’s even been lost on her bicycle before in town.
But this is another kind of fear. It’s that fear that she is going out in the great big world, out on her own. And Rick and I won’t always be right there to protect her.
And I know this will only get worse. Wait until she drives. Wait until she moves out on her own. Wait until she shows up with some lecherous tattooed loser who wants to borrow her credit card to fill up his motorcycle with gas.
Actually, I’m not so worried about that last one. Mandy doesn’t like bad boys. I know you think I am insanely naïve, but she does not. I know because I’ve pointed out a few. (I’ve always had a soft spot for a man with a motorcycle.) She just rolls her eyes and says she is not interested. Also, Rick is a card-carrying NRA member and an environmental engineer. He’s got guns and he knows where to hide the bodies. He’s every hormone-crazy teenage boy’s worst nightmare.
So the fear begins.
I should mention that along with becoming a volunteer at the library, she was asked to be on the teen advisory board for the Bennett Martin library. (Thank you auntie Carrie, new young adult coordinator at Bennett Martin.)
But mom, she says, I get to meet once a month with the other TAB members and eat pizza and suggest books for the young adult section. Oh yeah, and there are boys on this TAB thing. And apparently they aren’t all nerds and some are really cute. Oh yeah, and they have their own TAB prom with the TAB members from the other Lincoln libraries at the end of the year.
I suppose Carrie will also be paying for the dress? I didn’t think so. Oh the joy.
One positive note I feel I must mention. Earlier this week Mandy told me how happy she is right now with her life. The school year started off pretty crappy. Her best friends went off to high school without her. And then there was another incident, which I won’t go into, that added to her sadness. But, wonder of all wonders, she told me that it was the best thing that ever happened to her. If she hadn’t been on her own, she wouldn’t have worked so hard in volleyball and made it on the gold team. (Woohoo.) And she wouldn’t have made all the great new friends she has now. (The girl is constantly chatting with numerous people, several of which she says are her best friends.) And she wouldn’t have the time to work on the stories she is writing. (Her stories are wicked awesome. She put one of her first short stories on her own blog, entitled theendofbarbieandken.blogspot.com. The girl has a gift for dialogue and suspense.) So mom, you were right. Things did get better. (OK, so maybe I added that last little bit. But I will admit I was doing a vindicating happy dance in my head at the time as if she had said it.)
So this whole parenting gig continues to be a challenge to my intelligence and my sanity. One thing I will say, however. Mandy will not be wearing those new Miss Me jeans or her skinny jeans at the library. And she will not be curling her hair and wearing lip gloss. On Bennett Martin days we will be following the new auntie Carrie dress code – baggy jeans, no makeup, hair in basic ponytail. Who knew that one day I would be looking to Carrie for fashion advice? Baby sisters may actually be contributing members of society. Wonders never cease.
P.S. Sorry this is not a Maui blog. I know I should do a Maui blog. It is in the works. I just really have to fine-tune my Toddisms from the trip.
P.S.S. I know the first word out of Carrie’s mouth when she reads this: “Hurtfullllllllll.” I love you Carrie. Feel free to pick on me in your blog or Facebook. Just make sure you keep one eye on my daughter at all times when she is volunteering. We all know you got it going on. J
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