One of my daughers has been wearing make-up lately. In the beginning she didn’t wear it to school, she just came home each day and played around with it. I think she’s going for a look similar to Becca’s in the movie Pitch Perfect.
Yeah. It’s too much.
But when she was just doing it at home, it was not really that big a deal. I figured she was just experimenting, trying to get the right balance of a light hand and just enough definition.
The problem is that I realized one day last week that playing around with make-up at home had somehow morphed into putting on make-up every single morning and heading out the door with a fully done face.
No. Stop right there. Back right the hell up.
We talked last night about the make-up thing. I reminded her that she’s twelve. She needs to look twelve.
I don’t want to stifle her creative streak. I don’t want to stomp all over her individuality but I also want her to wash her face and stop trying to grow up so fast.
So we talked. Okay, I talked and she listened. She agreed to lighten up on the eyeliner.
This morning as she was getting ready for school, I offered to get her a washcloth for her face. I think she might have rolled her eyes but since I didn’t actually see it happen, I’m going to pretend that I know for sure it didn’t.
When she came into the bathroom and gave her eyes a very light rub with the washcloth, I managed to not roll my own eyes and said helpfully, “That old make-up is sometimes hard to get off, isn’t it?”
She nodded, probably hoping I’d let it go and let her go…to school with yesterday’s make-up still smeared under her eyes.
Alas, I’m not that cool.
Nope, I grabbed my Oil of Olay moisturizer, put a very small dab on my fingertip and told her to look at me and then look up. I swiped some of that moisturizer under each eye and then used the corner of the wet washcloth to wipe the old make-up off her face.
She instantly look three years younger. My sweet, innocent twelve year old was back.
She examined my handiwork in the mirror and when she didn’t say anything, I said, “Better, right?”
She nodded, though not sullenly, so I’ll give her that and went about her day.
It was refreshing not to be met with resistance in the make-up wars that I know a lot of mothers and teens/preteens wage. We’ll see how long it lasts but I’m warning the universe right now, I’m not backing down on this one. Now that the conversation has been had, I’ll continue to gently police my daughter’s eyes and wipe the excess eyeliner away myself if I have to do so.