The year of twelve is fraught with dichotomies. The quintessential straddle between true
childhood and everything that is to follow.
Ostensibly an adolescent, Twelve enjoys nice hand-bags and stilettos –
but upon inspection of her purse you’ll find:
lip gloss, rubber-band bracelets, and some paperclips (which she’ll
later use to make a necklace). In her
dress and heels, Twelve challenges the fastest boy to a foot-race across the
playground. Not yet realizing that “girls
are supposed to diminish themselves to impress boys,” she annihilates him -
and doesn’t apologize for being outstanding.
Twelve is beginning to understand that her future is
important; but not important enough to stop playing MineCraft with Little
Brother to study for an upcoming exam.
Twelve is an archetypal middle-schooler. Best friends forever will do an
unexpected about-face if one wears her new Keds before the other gets a pair. The proverbial “mean girls” are both
horrifying, and absolutely intriguing to Twelve. “Why do you think she acts that way,
Mom?” I capitalize on these
opportunities to share wisdom: other
people’s behavior is all about them - "that hurt people, hurt people." Try to have compassion, but stay FAR away
from antics whose consequences may be unrecoverable.
As a mother of Twelve, I’ve grown to realize that “honesty
is the best policy.” Twelve is pedantic
in her observations, and she formulates her very own thoughts. Nothing is taken at face value. Since my responses
will shape how she thinks, I do not obfuscate answers to uncomfortable
questions. Her thoughts will wholly
create her experience on this Earth and directly determine how her unique gifts
will influence humanity. Helping Twelve
shape the way she sees the world is extremely time-sensitive and requires my
full attention. For Twelve, this is my most
important task and cannot be out-sourced.
Twelve lives by the philosophy, “if I don’t ask, you can’t
tell me no.” It’s much easier to
apologize afterwards. This is particularly
problematic because the higher-executive function necessary to reliably
predict future consequences is lacking in a tween brain.
In Twelve’s mind, “if you don’t think about it, it doesn’t exist.”
Twelve is the epitome of multiple behavioral personas. The struggle between the various characters
in her mind shows on her face as she interacts in the world - the Baby, the
Brat, the Bitch, the Solider, the Judge, and my absolute favorite, the Intellectual. During times of contention, appealing to the ‘Intellectual’
is now an effective mitigator and allows for productive verbal interactions
with Twelve.
Twelve still very much cares what Mommy thinks. What Mommy thinks about her outfit, her hair,
her grade on an exam, and even her current life goals. Twelve asks for a tremendous amount of
feedback. And she wants to make everyone
proud. Twelve is honest. She puts forth a great effort and is a conscientious student of life. She aims to see a smile on my
face and is devastated when I am
deeply displeased with her.
When Twelve sleeps, she still looks like a toddler.
Twelve is my oldest, so everything she does is also new to
me as a mother. As Twelve begins to
separate and have her own experiences, I struggle. It doesn’t seem that long ago when she was a
few months old trying to flip off the bed.
The toddler that was way too busy.
I am now acutely aware that I only have 5 more years with Twelve. And not a day passes when I don’t both
celebrate (and hope for) that fact while lamenting the passage of time.
With Twelve, I am now interacting with a fully developed personality. She will hold on to memories created today,
for a lifetime. She will start to judge
me. In her sound logic (Twelve is very
logical) she reminds me of all the “life lessons” she’s accumulated – mostly
from my mouth. Life-long lessons encompassing such topics as ‘people-pleasing,’ friendships, self-confidence, and peer-pressure have all
been internalized by Twelve, and if she gets an inkling that I am not living up
to what she knows to be my Truth, she’ll boldly and proudly let me know.
Twelve is looking to be my friend.
Twelve doesn’t appreciate unfair reprimands.
Twelve expects for you to keep her confidence. Twelve, keeps your confidence.
By the end of this year of paradox and transition, I realize
that Twelve sits on the precipice of a very auspicious life and is well on her
way to greatness. I am so proud of my Twelve, and she is so proud of me.
