So today I am taking a photo of me in my new workout shoes, as you do (I did because they are new because I wore out my first pair of workout shoes owned as a post-4th grader, and this is milestone)
And I took the photo in V's new "tween" bedroom, only because it has a big mirror from when I decided that room would be our ballet studio, which never happened and I did not even get a barre intalled, but it has huge mirror, and I don't know how to otherwise take a photo of the shoes on me.
I thought if I took a photo of just the shoes, those who don't actually see me at gym would think I was faking it.
But the reason I am writing about this photo, other than to pat myself on the back for wearing out exercise shoes,
is because when I was looking at the picture, I realized it is a very good representation of having your daughter turn from little girl to tween.
Now, V is 11, and she lobbied for (Note: she is not House Lobbyist, that would be E) and got her own more "sophisticated" room.
I had nightmares of leopard boudoir choices, even though V is not at all like that, but I did let her choose stuff, within my perimeters (such as, that rug is nice and been in family forever, work it in) and while this does not fully show the room (also has other wall of windows, window seat, pillows, giant fake robot furry dog that I hate sitting on it) it does capture a snapshot of tweendom as we are experiencing it, which is in beTWEEN for sure.
I had written off the whole "tween" thing as clever marketing, but I am telling you, it is true.
As evidence I submit:
1. Gray ruched jersey bedding on bed, I thought would look like dead mouse, but is kind of cool in person, sheets are Indian batik print (can't see them, I pulled up the covers up before taking picture so it would look like I am neat freak) nothing I ever would pick but totally vibes with her and is way more "sophisticated" than previous polka dots or even more previous Mommy Loves French Things Stuff.
She is growing up, sniff.
2. But in back of room are pogo sticks and a giant stuffed monkey.
You cannot see this but at monkey's side is the book I am nagging her to read, open, as if monkey is reading it.
And, still has signs of kid there.
3.To my (Note: Fine, ok, I can't do directions if I am taking picture looking in mirror and now looking at that picture, I have no f-ing idea if it is left or right of me) SIDE,
is a glimpse of a gourd she painted in style of Mondrian at school.
It is really fantastic, totally Mondrian-ish, and how she got all those straight lines on a gourd is beyond me plus the color scheme is perfectly done, and is why she is House Artist and I am not.
So, that is very V, whatever age V, forever age V.
4. On nightstand in front of me is a bottle of expensive Keratin treatment for hair, which is MINE, and belongs in my wonderful giant vanity of products I lovingly tend to and worship.
I used it on her hair (swim team, and she is growing her hair in style of all upper school girls, straight and long) and discussed we'd occasionally use it as is expensive and not necessary every day but great for keeping her hair in good condition.
She immediately acquisitions it, and plants it by her bedside, "where it is safer."
Nonsense, as nothing is safer than my vault of products, unless M the 6 year old stylist is loose, but that was V's argument.
Very tween, and very unlike young girl V, same girl I spent two years chasing around the house with a hairbrush like a psychotic harpie.
5. Next to MY keratin treatment is what looks like an orange blob, but is really a polka dotted yellow rubber ducky, acquired yesterday.
I have no earthly idea why.
But still, kid in there.
6. Next to rubber ducky on nightstand is black lamp with iPod dock.
7. Desk (not shown, gourd is hanging off of it on whatever side of me that is) covered in giant inflatable dolphin, swim ribbons taped all over, computer, trinkets from travel, rocks, giraffe statues, camp photos, fake Tiffany reading lamp, Mickey Mouse sticker.
So, kid, V, tween, kid, V, kid that is V, V, tween, kid.
So my case study, vast research and analysis (conducted on one child, V) has indicated that tween is a thing.
Kid, not kid.
Aspiring teenager, but not yet.
ACK! I am inadvertently writing a Britney Spears song from her pre-"not that innocent" era.
Did not see that coming.