After the dance….

I hate seventh grade. 

I hated it once.  I hated it twice  (with the Prince) and it’s not any better this third time around.  In fact, it’s worse.  This time I am going through it with a Princess.  A Princess who has never really shown an interest in girly things.  A Princess who  is all about sports.  And moving.  Fast.  She is all about jeans and  bikes and snowboards and soccer balls and skateboards and basketballs.  Oh…and texting. 

This boyfriend/girlfriend thing is very new to her.  She has long been disdainful of friends who gushed about this boy and that boy.  She was never patient enough to sit through their conversations.  Never.  In Kindergarten she was perceived as being slightly odd because she was more likely to be playing ‘tanks’….bumping and chasing and bashing on the playground….with the boys.  Later she was perceived as a leader of sorts because she led a small contingency of girls onto the playground football and soccer fields.  And they played rough.  With the boys.

Most of her guy friends see her as a ‘bud.’  Someone to compete with.  Someone to laugh with.  Someone to play computer games with.  Not someone to ‘go’ with.  (It makes her crazy when I ask where they are going. LOL)  But when the Christmas dance rolled around someone asked her to ‘go.’   A nice kid she’d known in Kindergarten.  A cutie.  Cute enough to  make her want to wear an actual dress….and tights.    They danced and they hung together but were off with other friends as well.   And  he broke up with her after the holiday vacation.  ‘Whatever…’ she says she told him. 

But as the weeks passed and the Valentine Dance was looming, she began hunting around for someone to ‘go’ with.  We talked for an hour in the car the other morning.  The central theme was that girls mature faster than boys.  That she was the ‘whole package’ – smart, fun to be around, athletic, pretty – and when they finally caught up to the girls in their orbit, the guys would be buzzing around her like bees.  SHE would soon be able to pick and choose.  That said she was content to go to the dance alone… just hang with her friends. 

So off she went.  Snazzy black slacks, black tee under a bright red sweater, loose black hair swinging to the middle of her back, huge smile…..and ugly white tennis shoes with one neon green shoe lace and one neon orange shoelace.  To hang with her friends.  And eat pizza.  And play basketball.  And maybe dance.  Maybe.

Two hours later we picked her up and she was yakking away about what she had done.  Just hanging with friends was definitely more fun and easier than ‘going’ with someone.  Oh….and she danced.  And then she slapped someone.  An eighth grader who was TOUCHING her!  While everyone was ‘dirty dancing’……

I hate seventh grade.

Did I mention that?

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2 Comments on “After the dance….”

  1. Mary Says:

    Oh, SO not looking forward to that.

  2. Pam/Wordgirl Says:

    Oh I HATED seventh grade. And its so difficult to convey that those times won’t last forever…

    The good news is it sounds like she is a good advocate for herself — which is powerful!



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