When Did I Become Old?

Today was registration day for oldest child. Let me tell you.... nothing makes you feel old like having to take your child to register for school. In the back of my mind, I'm still the young cool kid I once was (OK, I'm cooler in my mind than I really was because while not a nerd, I never sat at the popular table. Even though several of my friends did, I was one of those kids that "floated" from clique to clique). Anyway, in my mind I'm not old enough to have a kid that'll be 15 this weekend - and starting her sophomore year in less than two weeks. Walking around campus and looking at some of these rejects err.... youngsters... made me feel older than I really am.

Registration was uneventful. Except for the pictures part. Dear Daughter choose to wear a summer dress she bought herself a few days ago. It's cute. It's a little brighter (hot pink & white) than I'd normally go for, but age appropriate. Her dress has thin straps. Not spaghetti straps, but thin straps. They are about an inch wide. She goes to a public school. I knew this wouldn't fly at her previous school (a strict Catholic primary school) but when I asked and she said it'd pass here I didn't argue. I thought she sees what other kids wear everyday she'll be fine. She's fairly conservative in her tastes so I didn't think I should push the issue.

We get to registration. We are surrounded by girls in daisy dukes, so I'm not terribly worried about the dress anymore (it's an appropriate length). There's one girl a few kids ahead of us with some studs in her face (this is clearly against school policy but who am I to judge). There's several spaghetti strapped females. We go through the lines. Teachers who know H comment on how she's gotten taller over the summer (yep, she stands a whopping 5'1... we're a tall family, what can I say).I spend a small fortune at various lines and complain about how public school is supposed to be cheaper than private - why the heck do I always spend so much at registration, blah blah.

We get to the pictures. There is a lovely school security man standing there "inspecting" the girls before he lets them take their pictures. Mr. Security Man decides that H is in violation of dress code. He hands her a ridiculously hideous very fashionable black bolero sweater to cover up with. H is not amused. A small hissy fit ensues. Not to Mr. Security Man's face, but enough to where other parents were giving me the stink eye. The camera man laughs. He tries to cheer her up by hitting on her telling her what a lovely young lady she is. I give him the stink eye. Needless to say, we didn't order school pictures this year, but her student ID is truly one of the more "interesting" ones I've seen. Yes, a black bolero sweater jacket over a white and hot pink sundress is definitely a fashion statement to be reckoned with.

I have been teasing her about the incident all day. She's complained about how other girls slipped through the line. I tried to cheer her up by saying the girls that slipped through looked like Marla from A League of Their Own and Mr. Security Guard didn't notice them, she told me I was being mean.

I've also caught myself giving her case in point scenarios from my days in college - as referenced in other blogs, I went to a small private college with a very strict rules. I was attending a press event with the journalism group and my advisor banned me from getting on the bus until I changed. I was in a suit. A non-revealing suit. But apparently my skirt was 1/2" to short and I was sent to change. She didn't really care that I lived an hour away. I had to go rummaging through a friend's closet to find something to wear, by that time I missed the bus and had to drive myself to Memphis (2 hours away) to attend the event. My mother was not thrilled when she found out I drove myself to Memphis (she really would have been mad to find out I made the trip in record time - even though I got lost in the ghetto along the way - exactly the reason why dear daughter will NOT have a sports car when she's old enough to drive).

But now dear daughter knows that maybe I'm not crazy when I question what she's wearing. And, she's even shown me her planned first day of school outfit for approval. Each year gets a little more disturbing, and each year I realize that how few school registrations are left before I'm helping pick out decorations for a dorm room. And, that in itself makes me feel aged beyond my years!