People love my life. No seriously...I don't say that in some fancy pants "I'm so awesome people love me" kind of way. I mean they love my life...as in they LOVE to talk about it. Now I'm sure a lot of that comes from the fact that I say what I mean, and I'm very open with everything going on in my life. There really aren't any secrets, and holy crap are people eager to throw stones when you point out your own downfalls and shortcomings.
Anyways...as those who know me are aware...I'm a psychology major putting herself through school by working as an insurance agent. I coach gymnastics and Mock Trial...and I also recently took on a new job. It's the favorite job I've had so far, and it doesn't pay. At least not in money. It does pay in hugs, smiles, and time with a really awesome kid. Lately...the new job I've picked up is step mom. Now, let's be clear first...I'm not officially anyone's step parent. Nick and I haven't made anything legal...but saying "I'm the girlfriend of a guy with a child" doesn't explain what our lives entail anymore.
But spending so much time with the little one lately has hit me hard on occasion. Doing things with her and watching her interact with Nick makes my days better. I find myself scolding or joking and sounding EXACTLY like my mother (mom you'd be proud)...and other times I find myself maybe being too strict or too nervous. And it's those times that I have to check myself...and make sure I push my father's thoughts out of my head.
We went to Cirque De Soleil last weekend and took the munchkin. I went with both of my parents as a child...and I remember the experiences and how different they were. When I went with my mom, we dressed up, she did my hair, and the whole night was like a fairy tale (it helped that we were traveling abroad at the time). If I remember correctly, I even got to wear little heels for the evening. When I went with my father, I wasn't allowed to do anything. Heaven forbid I put chapstick on in front of my father and he would have a massive conniption. I couldn't wear nail polish, and I just remember feeling inadequate when we got there. It wasn't a fun experience for me...I just remember it being stressful. Now, most of that had nothing to do with what I was wearing or how I looked...but just the overall feeling of stress and discomfort my father brought to my life.
So to get back to my original point...we took the munchkin with us to the show on Friday...and we all decided to dress up for it. She didn't have anything "fancy" with her...so I let her wear one of my small dresses (and yes...she fit into it really well...I don't want to talk about it)...I did her hair, and then she asked for makeup. Let's be honest, my first reaction was um NO you're ten. But then I remembered being her age. I wanted to wear makeup, and the answer at my father's house was absolutely not. My mom would let me experiment with it...but I would go nuts when he wasn't around. Metallic colors all over my face. I thought the more I put on...the better it looked. When in reality, I looked like a 12 year old prostitute...who didn't have a mirror.
I changed my mind. There were rules...where if daddy or I thought it was too much she had to take it off, etc...but I let her put it on. And a funny thing happened after I did my own makeup...she asked if I would do it for her. So I did. She sat up on our bed, and I ran brushes over her face (with little to no REAL makeup on them)...put a tiny bit of blush on her cheeks, and then brushed a tiny bit of mascara on her little lashes.
She ran around that night like a princess. You could tell she FELT pretty. She was actually better behaved than usual...a little more mature. She was being treated like an adult for the night...and she showed it. We let her drink pop (a rare thing at our house)...got candy for the show...did things that we wouldn't usually encourage. And she didn't disappoint. She didn't get crazy hyper and "sugar high"...instead she took everything in all night. Her eyes were double their normal size during the show...and she loved the walk through the city lights we took afterwards. We went home, she changed, washed her face, brushed her teeth, and was off to bed. She's always well behaved...but it was almost a different child that night. She looked, and behaved like a little adult.
The next day someone made a comment about how we shouldn't let a child wear makeup. How she was up "too late," etc. And honestly, the only words I could think of at the time were incredibly mature..."shove it". She had fun and got to pretend to be an adult. She can be a kid every day...but she got to play dress up for a night. She got special privileges, and she handled it exceptionally well. I see nothing wrong with that, and no one is going to change my opinion on the topic.
The title of this blog is all about how I do things that piss people off, how I really don't care, and why I do it. So let's see. I'm a conservative, pro-lifer, that owns a gun, says what she means, and doesn't apologize for any of it. I cut people out of my life without warning when they hurt me or those that I love. I speak out about anything I feel is wrong or unjust...and I don't care about who doesn't like it. I act quickly on things...sometimes too quickly...but I take the consequences in stride. Oh...and I let our ten year old wear makeup.
Who is anyone to tell me that's wrong?