She is 12 After All

After an evening at the Orpheum last weekend, Chloe quietly shared with me that she was old enough to introduce herself in public and had the ability to thank others for their kind deeds without being reminded to do so by me. The last bit of information I remember hearing in my fog of dismay and before she disappeared up the stairs was, "I am 12 after all". Apparently, I had committed both of the before mentioned infractions during the course of that evening.

Indeed she is 12 after all. When did this happen? Is there a rite of passage at 12 that nobody told me about? Even if I accept that it has happened I'm unclear exactly what the implications are. After all, I have never been a mother of a 12 year old before. I did know that she was old enough to like boys and be liked by boys. I'm fairly certain at 12 she's asked me all the tough questions like... What is heaven like? Is Santa real? Do you love dad? Why did so many people vote for Obama? I am painfully aware that 12 year old's struggle with pimples, hormones, an unsteady self-image and parents that disappoint, but complete autonomy in the social graces...who knew?

I forgot to mention we saw Chicago. Why did I think she had the wherewithal to see such a play and not the gumption to properly introduce herself and thank our host?

My silent vow, now public knowledge, is to work on it, to appreciate how kindly the reprimand was issued and value her ability to be clear and not mince words.

I take solace in the fact that she still needs me to clean the toothpaste globs out of her bathroom sink, throw her dirty clothes in the basket from time to time, wipe dry the occasional tear when her heart aches and sing the Wake Up song to her each morning if I expect her to get up.

By the way, she'll be 13, more commonly referred to as a teenager, in just eight short months. Ugh.