To Be 15

Saturday, January 7, 2012: Yesterday was my girl's 15th birthday. I hadn't planned it to be so soul-searching, but I've been thinking a lot about that 15th year of life. Of course, we spent the whole day together, as it was a National Holiday and you never go to school on a National Holiday! (her words, but I agree whole-heartedly) The differences between last year's (or the year before) Birthday Shopping Spree and this year's was profound: last year, it was all about books--mostly mystery, vampire-ish, teenaged angst type of love stories--and by the end of the day, she had a stack as tall as she was. This year, it was only too evident that she was growing up and teenage-hood had descended upon her: we shopped for "cute" jeans (apparently I've lost touch with what "cute jeans" are as I age), "cute" shoes (again, I'm just an old mom--what do I know?), fun smell-good stuff (lotions and sparkly gel and stuff), AND hair color to do an "experiment". I know my married girls will think I've lost my head to let her dye her hair (don't worry though--it's not bright blue and all over her head) and to HELP her do it this morning, but I think they'll agree when they see it that it's okay. It's just a hint of red and she planned it out so that it "hides" underneath the layers of her hair. (I think she's a bit disappointed that it's not FLAMING red and more obvious, but I like it this way.) And for another first, she had a small friend party last night that included one BOY (brave soul) with her four best girlfriends. He was funny and friendly, and I can see why she would want him to join her little group. He's not THE crush, but he redeems the teenage male species by making these girls laugh and forget the disappointments handed to them hourly in the halls of junior high. I told him he was brave and patient with these silly girls and asked if he had sisters. He said, "Yes, I have two sisters and EIGHT brothers, so I've learned to be patient!" I guess so! They talked and laughed and talked (sometimes all six at once!) until the wee hours. Yes, my girl is growing up.

I thought about myself at 15. I was a sophomore in high school. I was tall and gangly. I had glasses and braces. I fancied myself "in love" every 15 minutes. I was gaining new girl friends, but I too had a best friend who happened to be a boy who made me laugh and feel "cute". I probably thought my mother knew nothing about fashion either, but today I think she's the "fashionista" of all senior citizens! I was terribly insecure about my appearance, whether I fit in with the crowd, and worried sick about moving to a new city and state. Tough life. I think of my Chelsea at 15, as she became a "big sister" while she was going through her own insecurities and challenges as a teenager. I'm sure she was ignored more often than she liked as I tried to handle the stress of a premature baby. Fifteen is hard enough without some of the other stuff we have to shoulder.

Yesterday's spree was also unique, in that Janessa and I spent a good hour and a half at the U of U Hospital, waiting for a disc to be made of my recent scans that I could take to my doctors who don't have access to the files (mainly Dr. Bradley and Dr. Avizonis). For some reason, the files were not reading right and there were problems getting them to download. It was a little easier to wait after we purchased two Caramel Cream Frappachinos (non-coffee) from the Starbucks there in the hospital. Yum! As we sat on a bench and sipped our drinks and watched the parade of mankind walk by, I apologized to the birthday girl, that she had to spend time in a hospital on her special day. "It's okay," she said. "I actually like hospitals now after all that has happened this year. There is a feeling in them that makes me feel safe." Wow. She is growing up.