The 12 Days of Anecdotes – Day 3 “The Girl Who Looked Like a Boy”


Last weekend, I had a wonderful time decorating the Christmas tree with my daughter.  Although she’s only three, it was the first time that she and I actually had a mature mother-daughter bonding moment.  She was even helpful (to some degree) in putting the ornaments on the tree and we engaged in meaningful conversation to boot.  I will remember that for a long time.

Like most families, we have the good ornaments and the bad ornaments.  Whatever that means for you may vary, but typically the bad ornaments go in the back of the tree and the good ornaments go in the front. At our house, the bad ornaments include some crafty-type concoctions that either my sister or I made when we were little. They are sentimental but not cute. I inherited some of those treasures when my grandma passed away because we had given them to her as gifts over the years. What comes around goes around. (Boy, she must have felt gypped every Christmas.)

As my daughter was going through the box of bad ornaments, she came across a little brass snowflake with a picture of the child inside it. That child was me. It was a younger, more freckled, buck-toothed version of me in the sixth grade. It’s no secret that I wasn’t the most attractive kid in my younger days. I was pretty chunky in elementary school. That, in combination with my short, feathered hairdo made for a very ugly kid. Believe it or not, in the particular photo my daughter was holding, I wasn’t as hideous looking as I was in earlier school pictures because I had grown three inches the summer between fifth and sixth grade.  That made me stretch out. I also think I had cut off my “rat tail” by then. (Hey, Give me a break. I lived in a small Ohio town where mullets ruled.) So while this picture was still the ugly me, I was a thinner. Today, I can  comfortably talk about my appearance, but for many years I was embarrassed to show anyone pictures of me.  Years of therapy changed that.

Back to my mother-daughter bonding conversation….

“Who’s this boy?” my daughter asked me as she held up the ornament.

Me - 11 yrs old

“Honey, that’s not a boy.  That’s your mommy when she was little.” I responded.

She looked at me puzzled and without missing a beat said, “You were a boy when you were little?”

“No, I was just a girl with short hair…” I tried to explain.

“…who looked like a boy,” she finished.

Kids have no filter but I couldn’t argue with her. I was a girl who looked like a boy – plain and simple. So, I hung that ornament right in back where it belonged.

Advertisements

About bizemom

I am a busy working mom (get it... "Biz e-Mom"?) of three kids under the age of four. I have a white-collar day job, I have a night job as a mom, and an "in between" job as a freelance writer and blogger. What can I say, I am a glutton for punishment and I don't go to bed until 1 a.m. No matter how much I complain, I like being busy. That must be the Sagitarius in me--we get bored easily. Now on to the next adventure (I mean... venture!)
This entry was posted in Blogs, Christmas, Daughters, Family, Holidays, Humor, Moms, Parenting, Raising children and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to The 12 Days of Anecdotes – Day 3 “The Girl Who Looked Like a Boy”

  1. Tom says:

    LOL, you’re a little hard on yourself but I’m sure females are more critical of their looks during those awkward times. Yesterday’s blog was hilarious too, don’t know if Jack came but the uncle I’m thinkin of is my Dad…sounds exactly like how Mert would react to a turd in his hand!

    Congats on the book publishing, I’m very proud of you…as I’m sure Robert, your Mom, Steph and everyone else is as well!

    T

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s