Owning the red high heels

Last weekend my youngest daughter went to a formal school dance.  It was the annual Daddy Daughter Dance at Rhenish High and we decided she would get an alone night with her dad, and her sister and her could share him the following year.

For once we were actually prepared and went shopping 2 weeks prior to the dance.   By some wonderful miracle we found the dress in the first 30 minutes at the first shop.  I hate shopping even more than I hate cleaning up vomit which gives you an idea of how not fun it is for me.  And...the dress was under budget and so pretty and not at all sexy which is the look Mom was going for and fortunately daughter liked it too.  Daughter is one of those people that are born sexy.  She just can't help it and has had a swag and star factor since she arrived 13 years ago.  Fortunately she is still pretty unaware and innocent which I hope to keep for as long as possible.

Next stop we hit the dreaded mall and I steer her to the sale section but Madame is like her Mimi and her eye falls on the most pricey pair they have.  They are red and very high and rather sexy.  She puts them on and sashays down the aisle like she has been wearing heels all her life.  Most kids her age would be awkward and fall around like a drunken Bambi but she doesn't.  She rocks the heels which match the dress perfectly.  My first instinct is no.  What will people think when they look at such a young girl in such high shoes?   But what do I think?  And what does she think?

So then I start thinking about how much we parent because we want to avoid the disapproval and judgement of other parents.  "Ooh I would NEVER let Suzie wear that, say that, go there, eat that blah blah frikking blah."  So I think haters gonna hate and we love the shoes and she looks stunning and I know who she is and so does she so Madame CAN get the shoes.   We book the leg wax and the hair appointment and she gets all ready.  She does her make-up way better than I do which is not saying much at all.  She walks out the door with her head held high looking absolutely breath taking and poised and lovely.  Of course she soon took them off and wore her adidas trainers on the dance floor but she made her entrance.

So what's the point of my story?   We are so deliberate in how we parent coming off a base where our parents did the bare minimum and we still thrived after being burnt in the sun, eating shit, driving in the car while they smoked and only had to be home when it got dark.  Our under parenting has made us over parent and the complexity of social media makes it that much harder.  Go with your gut.  You know your own kid.  Your family values.  You are their mom and that means its you, the other parental figure and the kid that get to decide.
  Here is my girl in her heels.  Feeling and looking beautiful.