AuburnChick's Adventures

Today, while attending an academics awards ceremony at my daughter’s high school, I was reminded of some insecurities I thought I had put aside.

I don’t know why this surprises me as teenage children don’t exactly deliver bucket loads of compliments to their parents. In fact, their comments usually dash whatever good feelings you might have about yourself.

Have you ever walked out of the bathroom pleased with the way your hair turned out? I mean, how often do we really have good hair or makeup days?

For some reason, my eyeliner will not go on in a thin line the same way two days in a row. I manage to mess it up most of the time. But the one time I walk out with a younger looking face, mascara not smudged anywhere, Little Miss Auburnchickadee manages to burst my bubble.

“Mama, you really need to rub in your powder. Oh, and by the way, you put on too much blush this morning. Your face looks like it’s on fire.”

Happy day to you too, dear.

So then you walk around rubbing your cheeks all day, scared your face is shining like a beacon…pointing the way to safe harbor.

I hate feeling self-conscious.

Today was one of those days.

Daughter had begged me not to arrive too early for the ceremony. She remembered the night of the pinning ceremony when I insisted on getting there an hour early. Gotta get the best seat, you know.

She said that there might still be kids in the gym, and that they might recognize me as “belonging to her” since we look alike.

Somewhere in there, there’s a backhanded compliment. I did not miss the fact that she admitted that we look alike. That was a first. However, it was not said kindly. Heaven forbid that I’m recognized as Little Miss Auburnchickadee’s mother — the one who was on bed rest for an entire month during her pregnancy — during the holidays — and then in labor for nine very long hours and pushed for one entirely way too long hour with her playing peekaboo before she decided to come out for good.

So, I get there a good 30 minutes early. Of course, I had to park out front and walk through the entire school to get to the gym. This is where I got self-conscious.

First of all, I do not envision myself looking like a “mom.” In my mind, I’m still that vivacious high schooler who happens to have the mind (and experience) of a mom. However, I’ve never seen a high schooler with a knitting bag and booga purse slung over her right shoulder…walking down the school hallways.

I pray that I don’t slide on the floor and fall. I would absolutely hate to make the kids drool over the items in my knitting bag. I mean, those Options needles are the latest craze. And my stitch markers…made specially for me by a dear friend…well, they could use them to trade for Chick-fil-A sandwiches. That’s how amazing they are. I also look down to make sure that the heavy baggage on my right arm has not unsnapped my blouse. That would be just my luck…kind of like walking down the hallway with toilet paper sticking out of your pants.

I made it down the hallway accident-free and entered the wrong door to the gym. Of course. This is AuburnChick, who never has an easy time doing anything.

“Ma’am, you should probably go to the other door,” says a helpful young lady.

Grrr…when did I become a “ma’am?”

And the process starts all over again, only in reverse, after the ceremony is over. I see a girl and guy hanging all over each other in the hallway. They give me a cursory glance. I’m just a mom with a knitting bag. I’m harmless.

So, the question begs to be asked.  Do we ever grow out of our high school insecurities? I don’t think so, because nobody likes to look stupid. Whether it be walking in the wrong door or slipping down a couple of steps…any time anyone looks at us in a funny way we’re reminded that there will always remain inside of us a scared little girl (or boy, if I happen to have any male readers).

Filed under: Knitting, This-n-That | Tagged: high school, insecurities, Knitting, teenagers |