Lemming

It finally happened: the Kid is officially a teenager.  I know this because two nights ago, I became Mom of the Teenager: “If the other kids told you to jump off a cliff, would you do it?”

The  teenager came home from cross-country practice and complained about how she “had” to stand in a bucket of ice for 2 minutes, and it was so cold that she almost threw up.  I of course went into the defend-my-young mode and demanded to know why the coach was making them do this — and she admitted that it was actually other kids who told her she “had” to stay in the ice to “get used to it.”

The Teenager’s peer group right now is the cross-country team; she REALLY REALLY REALLY wants to fit in.  She refused to go to a swim party because she didn’t have a bikini:

“Can I have a bikini?”

“No.  Besides, you didn’t even want to TRY on your cousin’s bikini a month ago when you didn’t have a swimsuit and they were all going to the beach.”

“That was a month ago.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So could I have a bikini?”

“No.  But you can have a modest two-piece suit — the kind that can’t be untied ‘by accident.'”

“So you’ll buy me a two-piece?”

“No, I am not going to buy it — but you can, if that’s what you really want to spend your money on!”

Yesterday she went to a swim party at a local pond with the cross-country team … and she made do with a two-piece tankini suit that an older girl in the neighborhood had given her.  I do give her credit for deciding that perhaps it is OK, after all, not to spend 40 or 50 bucks on a half yard of fabric.

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