Last week, I was invited to attend a Teachers’ Gala at a posh downtown hotel. It included a full day conference where we shared best practices and listened to Dr. Phil McRae’s phenomenal research on trends in education over the next 20 years.
The day-long celebration also included a semi-formal dinner. We were told to bring a guest. I hemmed and hawed, and ended up selecting my husband.
After the conference session ended, I arrived home to spend fifteen minutes with my kids. My husband left to pick up our babysitter, and I started the ten-minute sprint to get ready. I put on my little black dress, stuck in my contacts, and resurrected my makeup bag. William was somewhere in the house; Vivian was beside me, taking in everything.
“Why are you putting on makeup?” she asked.
I paused, trying to find the least hypocritical thing to say. I fiddled with the mascara wand, looked at her and said, “Because it’s fun sometimes.”
“Can I put some on?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Why not?” She started to paw through my makeup bag anyway and pulled out a blush brush.
I settled on a cliché. “Because you’re beautiful as you are.” It was true, but I didn’t want to imply that older women needed makeup to be beautiful.
In this parenting adventure, I’m trying to raise a daughter who’s strong and confident, and a son who values strong and confident women. Some days I think I fail.
“So are you,” Vivian said. “You’re beautiful. Without makeup.” I watched her sweep the blush up her cheek.
“Thanks, Sweetie,” I said, putting the mascara away. “That’s really nice to say. Now give me that brush.”
Vivian handed it over and smiled. She continued, “Your hair is beautiful, and so is your smile and your heart.”
Vivian’s not one for subtlety. If one compliment is good, then three are better. I put the brush down. “Give me a hug,” I said, embracing her. “Now go downstairs.”
*
Minutes later, I heard the garage door open. I tossed my makeup bag into the cupboard, located my boots, and zipped up the rest of me. I walked downstairs and greeted our babysitter.
My husband said goodbye to the kids. Vivian, always one for fairness, realized she hadn’t yet complimented her father. “Dad,” she said, “you’re very handsome.”
“Thank you, Vivian.”
William looked up from his Lego creation. A smile crept across his face before he spoke. “Ya, Dad,” he said. “You’re handsome as a duck.”
If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck –
*
Any stories of makeup out there?
Any compliments coming from left field?
Ducks are quite handsome. I tell my son I wear makeup so I don’t scare anybody. So much for instilling the concept of natural beauty.
But you’re instilling a sense of humour in him!
My daughter once asked if I put on eye shadow so the top of my eyes match the darkness under my eyes. I told her no more watching mommy put on makeup.
(Great post!)
It’s a bit of a sequence, isn’t it? (a) have kids, (b) get dark circles, (c) use makeup, (d) sigh.
I have sons; as a single/solo mom, it’s been interesting (and challenging) raising them to appreciate girls for who they are, rather than how they look. Then again, I’m a mom who wears makeup about 3/4 of the time (not a lot), without any issue if I’m running around in a totally natural state.
What I found particularly unexpected was that both my boys hit the worry stage of being fat – just as girls do – in early middle school. I had to constantly remind them they were completely “normal,” they had to eat and exercise normally, and that their bodies were changing. What’s easier with boys (in some respects) is that they aren’t bombarded with the same crazy media messages as girls (reinforced by peers).
Disco Duck was a star! Remember him?
When my daughter was about 3 she was fascinated with my makeup. She always wanted the lipstick and she’d smear it all over her mouth like she was preparing for a clown act. It was adorable.
I’m one of those women that doesn’t find makeup terribly important. Many days I go without it even if I know I’ll see a lot of people. I considered it a bit lazy really, but now that my little girl is almost 13 I realize how my attitude helped her be more confident in her own skin. She’s not in a big hurry to wear makeup and her dad is thrilled!
This is a really great piece.
Thanks, Annie. Wow, you’ve obviously done something right with your teen (I suspect a lot of things right). That’s my sincere hope for all our daughters, and sons too: to feel confident in their own skin. Well said.
Those kids are cuties!
My kids always question me when I wear something besides jeans and a T-shirt…”Why are you all dressed up?” Like their mom isn’t allowed to look nice once in a while…
Wendy
Out of the mouths of babes. That makes me long for the summer, when jeans, yoga pants, and khakis are my wardrobe. Good bye dress pants and jackets.
My 5-year old is fascinated by make-up. She has a crappy little kit of tween-type makeup that she got for Christmas. She likes to apply it on me from time to time. Think RuPaul.
It’s been a while since I thought of RuPaul. You have to love those Christmas gifts. It’s how my daughter acquired Barbie dolls (though she recently donated them all to a thrift store, bless her heart).
My husband dislikes makeup so much I walk a fine line between putting on just enough to make me feel put together and not so much that its enough for him to notice it. (He knows I wear it, he just doesn’t like to notice I wear it.) Kind of like when I was 15 and wanted to sneak out of the house without my mom catching me in makeup.
It has at least taught me the art of applying cosmetics, um… artfully.
I think a lot of men dislike heavy makeup. I suppose I can’t speak for all of them (though I sure try sometimes), but I suspect that. Any men out there want to confirm or deny this?
I love your description of “putting on just enough.” It is a skill.
Well, my second-born is obsessed with make-up. She has a tendency to look like something crossed with a pre-schooler beauty queen, a clown and Robert Smith (The Cure)…….She somehow manages to sniff out my lipsticks, wherever I hide them. They’re all now squashed and battered so I look like a clown/Cure fan when I apply it (although less pre-schooler and more nursing home beauty queen of course)!
Nothing like gummy lipstick. Somehow I can’t help but smile as I think of her, and you of course. Just wait till your son finds the lipstick. 😉
Not for nothin’, but yesterday my son and I were wrestling – something we like to do between commercials (especially during long vacations from school). Anyway, he’s getting stronger now that he is almost 12 years old. It wasn’t as easy to take him down as per usual. But I got him. I managed a backward roll and pinned him while counting: one… two… three…
We were both laughing hysterically when suddenly the show came back on and we returned to our couch sitting silence. As my son adjusted his hair (good hair is very important at almost age 12), he said, “Mom, you are a really good wrestler.”
Sometimes I think that’s why my husband picked me. 😉 Just sayin’.
Renee, you kicked his butt. I hope my son finds something to compliment me about when he’s 12. Or 6. Right now, he thinks my talent is sitting.
And nice euphemistic use of wrestling, my word friend.
I’m nothing if not euphemistic. You should see me teach Romeo and Juliet. Wait, I’m not allowed to do that anymore. 😉
I still teach it.
Drawing all those swords. Pushing the maidens to the wall. And that’s just the opening scene. You can guest lecture anytime.
Can I talk about the “beast with two backs”? I’ll only do it if I can show – via power point presentation – what Shakespeare was getting at there. 😉
I love it that you “resurrected” your makeup bag. I do that about every six months, usually to find my mascara is so dry it flakes off almost sooner than I get it on. Fortunately, my daughter has strong, natural coloring so even at 13 she can tell that makeup is overkill. Also, I’ve almost never worn makeup in front of her that wasn’t stage makeup, and she thinks that makes me look awful so she isn’t eager to join me in “creepy face.” Really enjoyed your post.
Thanks, Piper. Maybe I should try the “creepy face” look to scare Vivian off of makeup. Or farm her out to you for a few years/months/weeks/days.
I’m thankful she’s sporty. When I grew up, very few of my teammates ever wore makeup, unless we went out, which was rather rare since we were in tournaments every weekend. I hope she and all our daughters finds a similar space to be themselves.
Agreed. Btw, adding you to my blogroll.
I’m honoured. And for you, I’m also honored. 🙂
But an unbelievably adorable duck!
I think I’d like to be the duck, if it meant I could fly south for the winter.
My seven-year-old son had to write a paragraph about his mom for a writing test. It went something like this:
My mom yells. A lot. She is mean. My mom is the best mom ever.
“Really,” I said to him, “you could have at least mentioned the awesome cookies I bake.”
“Oh ya,” he said, “I’ll try to remember that next time.”
Cheers to praying our kids never start blogs! Not sure I want all their ‘compliments’ in print.
I love that response: “I’ll try to remember that.” I spit my tea out.
I likely should shop for a URL for Vivian. Something like TalkingBackToMom.com or PuttingTheAssInSass.com.
I vaguely remember watching my mother putting on mascara when I was about Vivian’s age and asking her this:
“Why do you put on make-up? You already have a husband.”
Hmmm….
Can’t help wondering what I’d read or seen or heard to make me pose that question.
My mother is extremely low-maintenance. A little mascara and that’s it. Doesn’t get nails done or have facials, never worried much about her appearance. She has actually apologized that she didn’t teach me how to be more “girly.” But I’m glad to not be addicted to salons or shopping or shoes.
Still. I sometimes wish I took better care of myself – my teeth and skin in particular. But I’m just too lazy.
And I already have a husband.
I love the husband line. Brilliant kid logic.
I’m not so great on the self care front, but I’m ridiculously thrilled I don’t like shopping.
Having said that, every time I pick up a fashion magazine, I feel ugly-ish. Thankfully, I only flip through them when I get my hair cut, but I really should stop this masochism.
Great comment, Julie.
Thankfully, my daughter thinks that makeup is just special “cream” for mommies. So… when I’m putting on makeup, she gets hand-cream. (She thinks it’s great fun. At least she still prefers eating snow to playing with makeup? *deep sigh*)
(Your kids are HILARIOUS… You are in DEEP trouble when they hit their teens – FAR too smart! =)
I think the final word you were looking for was not “smart” but “smart-a$$ed”.
I love the hand cream idea. And my daughter’s hands are always scaly and near bleeding (Thanks, Alberta). I am the nighttime hand cream fairy.
What a great post! Handsome as a duck…Luv it and Vivian is one very clever little lady noticing how beautiful your heart is. 🙂
I’m a bit like in Annie in that I often don’t give makeup much of thought (I’d argue its me being lazy) most of the time. Then there are days, just as you explained to Vivian, it’s fun to put on makeup, so I do. If I wake up early enough or I’m in a Hearing for the day, I like to ‘dress up, and make up etc.’
With my girls I went with the for fun and like it’s ‘art’ just like ‘painting, or sculpting or hairstyles.’ They seemed to be taking on my example in that most of the time they can’t be bothered to but if they feel silly or fun or excited, on goes the sparkly lip gloss and Tinker-bell glitter for their eye lids and cheeks. The 15 yr old is a little more now I think but since I don’t notice it my thought is she certainly doesn’t overdo it.
Sometimes Sophie puts on this sparkly turquoise eyeliner that definitely looks well hilarious to be honest. She says it makes her feel like she’s a blue mournful butterfly like in the movie. 🙂 That’s an at-home art project only though. LOL
Reba, you always make me smile. I love the idea of makeup as a dress up thing. A bit a bling never hurt anyone.
And we all could use some sparkly turquoise eyeliner. I’d like to feel like a butterfly.
Lovely.
I’m more handsome like a rabbit than a duck. Vivian cracks me up. I’m sensing that she may be a bit, and I mean the tiniest wee bit, dramatic. I’m sure that won’t be enhanced during the teenage years 😉
Don’t even talk to me about the teen years. I have 7 years till then. No doubt she’ll be mining this blog for ways her mother screwed up her life. Good thing I’ve given her evidence.
Rabbit? I’m thinking Bugs Bunny: big teeth, big ears?
my girls are both obsessed with make-up. I think it’s more the application of various creams and lotions and powders and pencils that they like more than they think they look great afterward.
I’m choosing to look at it like they are experimenting with potions and instruments.
You are a way cooler mom than me. I just deal with it like I do most parenting out-of-control moments: send kids out of the room.
My Ostrich Theory of Parenting.
My 7 year old went through a long period where I knew if he was complimenting me, he was about to ask for something he wanted. I would say thanks and reply, “Is there something you wanted to ask me?”
He is very clever. Does he get that from his mom? 😉
I wish I only had to use make up occasionally. I need a lot of help. And Katherine and I do our nails together sometimes. And I have a couple shades of blue so my three year old son doesn’t feel left out. I have no idea what I am teaching my kids.
You always crack me up, Marianne. I have painted Vivian’s nails all of two times. My neighbour has done it more.
May the mascara be with you.
I missed the comma in the title upon first glance and read “Teaching Kids and Beauty”. Thought you had gone all sentimental on us again. However, the appearance of to Non-Sequitur Boy Will and “handsome as a duck” Grumpy Librarian towards the end brought me firmly back into the wonderfully wacky world that is Ironic Mom’s.
On a slightly related side note: There is no beauty to be found in the teaching of my current crop IB2s as we close in on exams. It is like pushing 20 boulders uphill through knee high mud. Having said that, I am already getting a little teary at the thought of all my wee chickens graduating in a month (Inshaallah!). Until now, I’ve never been at a school long enough to see kids through from 8th grade to 12th. God help me at graduation. Good thing I never wear make up! Teaching kids and beauty. Hmph.
Sentimental is on hold for a bit. Don’t want to lose too many of fans-o-snark.
IB students must almost be done now. Yikes. I remember IB-itis. I traded that in for the world’s longest month of June with 14 and 15 year olds.
Here’s to the end, makeup or not!
The best one for me still is when my son (about 6 at the time) walked in on me trying on my one-piece bathing suit: “Wow, mommy – you’d look just like Wonder Woman if you had breasts.”
That is too funny. What is it with six-year-olds and Wonder Woman? A month ago, William saw a Wonder Woman poster and said, “Mom, look at herrrrrrr.” I think he drooled.
Bugs Bunny for Educlaytion? I thought he was more of a Rogger Rabbit type. This was a great blog to read! Love it!
You may be a hare closer to the truth. 😉
Ah, the big challenge with my son.
No, he doesn’t try to wear my wife’s make up (she doesn’t try to wear it either, unless we’re going to a wedding).
I mean getting him to respect women, not be forceful with them, but still understand they are strong, but that they are still differnt from boys, but in a good way, but not that there’s anything wrong with boys, please stop watching that potato chip commercial with the girl in the skimpy outfit dancing on the podium, how can I fight the tide of societal images that objectify women, I really shouldn’t let him drink Sprite.
Whew. It’s not easy being a dad who thinks women are sexy and cool and wants his son to grow up with a healthy respect for them. Men and women are different and it’s a stupid lie to pretend otherwise, but I hope he can understand different doesn’t mean unequal.
You say it well. (You could spin this comment into a post or two, I’m sure, and worthy ones at that).
It’s hard to combat perceptions of women (and increasingly men) in the media. I’m hopeful that strong role models win out.
Thanks for your comment.
Kids say the darndest things and yours most of all. I always get a kick out of your posts and hearing about the goings on in the Ironic Mom’s household. Thanks for the chuckle. 🙂
You’re welcome, Monica. And thanks for taking the time to comment. I think if I didn’t blog about these things, I’d be under my bed or at the local pub.
Handsome as a duck. I’d take that any day. Daffy is dashing.
Last night Slim said, “Dad, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but your voice is always stern when you talk.” I sternly told him to go to bed.
I love Slim’s preamble (by the way, my word of the year is preamble).
Vivian’s always saying, “Dad, watch your tone.” And she’s right.
Hope Slim had a good sleep.
I don’t have a daughter but I do have a short morning routine that involves a wand, a brush and at times even eye pencil. Multiple times a day, I apply Burts Bees to the lips. Theo, of course, wants do do all of it, and one day, I caught him sticking a pen IN THE CORNER OF HIS EYE! I realized he’d seen me apply mascara or eye pencil so many times, he wanted a piece of the action. Gah.
I do think with girls, it’s a …”When you’re 21 and no longer live under my roof, you can do whatever you want!”
Seriousy though, makeup isn’t inherently bad. It’s kind of a rite of passage to where gobs of ghastly makeup during the high school years. Main thing is that all that other good self-esteem stuff is in place along side it all.
I love the image of Theo. Well, not of him sticking a pen into his eye, but you know.
Yes, I think you’re right: self esteem goes way deeper than makeup.