The good side
She looked darling this morning as she left for school. Really cute. Black football jersey, black, red, silver and white ribbon in her curly hair, big smile on her face.
I've always been a bit ambivalent about my daughter's looks. We get comments all the time on her looks, and have since she was a newborn. Women stopped me in the mall to compliment her. I'd shrug and say something like "oh, baby gap makes all kids look fantastic".
The truth is I've never been beautiful and I don't know how to handle my daughter's looks. From a pretty young age I was traumatized by my curls. I was too skinny, and then "too flat", and then fat. The closest thing I got to a compliment was hearing that my mother was so very beautiful (she was) and occasionally hearing that I looked like her ("better that than looking like my Dad" I'd reply. He looks a lot like Hitchock.) Now "you look like your Mom" is the best of all compliments.
When people say she's pretty, I usually say "as long as she's nice". Or something equally evasive. How could my husband (he's kinda cute, if I do say so myself, but model-like looks, um....) and I have such lovely looking children??? In that sense, my kids are both freaks of nature. They look like us, but much, much better.
But this morning, in her happy state, curly (but not too curly) hair tastefully done with a cute ribbon, off to school with her confidence and her Very Vera school bag, I was really proud of my daughter. A girl with the whole package and the world at her feet. Tomorrow is her first competition with her new team. They showed their hard work off to parents, and they looked ready to win. C left the house strong, confident and happy.
Beauty that's more than skin deep. What else could a mother want?
A picture. Wish I'd taken one, but I hope I've captured the moment here.
PS Would I have chosen cheer for my daughter? No. But that's the unpredictability of parenting. You don't know what you will get. I never thought I'd be the mom of a beautiful cheerleader. With all the sarcasm, complaining and criticizing I do on this blog, I hope you'll indulge me in a minute of bragging.
I've always been a bit ambivalent about my daughter's looks. We get comments all the time on her looks, and have since she was a newborn. Women stopped me in the mall to compliment her. I'd shrug and say something like "oh, baby gap makes all kids look fantastic".
The truth is I've never been beautiful and I don't know how to handle my daughter's looks. From a pretty young age I was traumatized by my curls. I was too skinny, and then "too flat", and then fat. The closest thing I got to a compliment was hearing that my mother was so very beautiful (she was) and occasionally hearing that I looked like her ("better that than looking like my Dad" I'd reply. He looks a lot like Hitchock.) Now "you look like your Mom" is the best of all compliments.
When people say she's pretty, I usually say "as long as she's nice". Or something equally evasive. How could my husband (he's kinda cute, if I do say so myself, but model-like looks, um....) and I have such lovely looking children??? In that sense, my kids are both freaks of nature. They look like us, but much, much better.
But this morning, in her happy state, curly (but not too curly) hair tastefully done with a cute ribbon, off to school with her confidence and her Very Vera school bag, I was really proud of my daughter. A girl with the whole package and the world at her feet. Tomorrow is her first competition with her new team. They showed their hard work off to parents, and they looked ready to win. C left the house strong, confident and happy.
Beauty that's more than skin deep. What else could a mother want?
A picture. Wish I'd taken one, but I hope I've captured the moment here.
PS Would I have chosen cheer for my daughter? No. But that's the unpredictability of parenting. You don't know what you will get. I never thought I'd be the mom of a beautiful cheerleader. With all the sarcasm, complaining and criticizing I do on this blog, I hope you'll indulge me in a minute of bragging.
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