Instant Tween?

First of all, I'd like to say that I don't have much of a concept of what "tweens" are. They hadn't been invented when I was a kid. In fact, I think the whole age-group was contrived by Disney Corp. as a marketing ploy, so they could have someone to whom they could sell Hannah Montana. When I was a kid, this was a stage called "the point at which girls start snooping in their older sisters' stuff and swiping their lip gloss".

So, Sara had her birthday over the weekend (BTW, Happy Birthday, Sara!). Here she is with her nine candles, (starting to look like a real conflagration on the cake). I paid no attention at the time, but she is wearing a purple disco-dress from the dress-up box.


I was a little distracted by the volume of girls, spaghetti sauce, wrapping paper, lemonade, shrieking and 19-cent kazoos.


Saegrape, if you visit today, this is a conscious effort to immitate your style. Seagrape is a great photographer, and can make real art out of a random grouping of everyday objects. I want to learn to do this; as you can see by my attempt...I still have a looooong apprenticeship ahead of me.

The party was pretty successful. I have vivid (painful) memories of being a girl this age, and my biggest worry was that I would have to deal with a girl-bullshit squabble at 10 PM and drive some sobbing, traumatized girl home because some other girl told her that her teeth were ugly, or that she was getting boobies.

There is one girl that I always watch, 'cause she instigates this stuff sometimes. She has been Sara's friend since they were three, so I know how she operates, and I can usually head her off at the pass. She stirred the pot a bit at supper, by stating loudly that she was going to Primary Children's Medical Center next week to have some [dramatic pause] blood tests. A little girl asks, "What for?" "Oh, I can't really talk about it." I roll my eyes while I get more garlic bread out of the oven. Then, she leans over and starts whispering into Sara's ear. The table goes silent. Another girl asks, "What are you whispering secrets about?" L. says, "It's about my tests, but it's really personal and private." Sara catches my eye and leans away from L. as if I had yanked on her ear. The conversation grinds to a halt. "Gosh, L., " I said, setting a basket of bread on the table, "even grown-ups think health-care is a pretty boring topic for a dinner party." Everyone laughed and the talk moved back to silly kid-stuff. That was the only time that I had to intervene.

Part of the reason that the girls got on so well was that Nathan was there, along with his little friend, B. I had invited B. to keep Nathan company, but it was also helpful because it gave the girls a united front against a common enemy: disgusting boys. Nate and B. relished this role, as you can see, and made the most of it, tearing around shirtless and masked, marauding horrors straight from the pages of Lord of the Flies.

The party is over (all except for the microwave, which will smell scorched for months 'cause I burned popcorn in it). But now, I have a nine-year-old. I have to say that this really is a little different. For one thing, she got clothes that I'm jealous of. Not much longer 'til I can wear her stuff, which is (thanks to her indulgent Nana in England) waaaay better than mine.

That skirt really belongs with me, Sara!

Get over it, Mom.

Sudden changes have come about primarily because Simon and I bought her a desk for her birthday. The dress-up box has been exiled to the basement, and she now has a desk, lamp and swivel-chair. She loves it, and has it all set up for art projects, reading, etc... She always used to do these things out at the kitchen table. [Sigh!] Almost the moment the little girls left the morning after her party, she went into her room and closed the door. Shortly after, I found a proliferation of door-signage, stating the new rules of engagement.

Wha-?!? Hmph! I am the mother, after all. I will not knock, await permission to state the secret password, then apply in triplicate for the privilege of entering my child's room. Right!?! Right, Si? "Weeeeell, we need to remember that she is growing up."

Later, after filling out the requisite paperwork and getting my passport stamped, I went in there with a basket of clean clothes and discovered the thing that she loves most about the desk, and that I hate. It is the supreme crap-collector, already the biggest trash magnet in her chaotic room. I just stood still and looked around, totally overwhelmed. I have to admit that I'm a neat-freak. I looked at all the junk piled up on the desk, around it, under it...Radio Disney blaring "How do you knoooooow..... he loves you?/ How do you knoooooooow... he cares?" and I thought, "I sense conflict coming on..."

I called the Summit Conference on Tween Rights and Responsibilities, so we could figure out ground rules.

Resolution One: On Privacy

"Well, I think I should be able to be alone in my room."
"I agree. That's totally reasonable."
"I want to be able to close the door, and when the door is closed, everyone has to knock."
"OK, I can work with that."
"And, if I don't want you to come in, I can tell you to go away, and you have to."
[buzzer sound] "Whoops! Nope. That doesn't work for your dad and me. We'll knock, but we reserve the right to come in if we need to talk to you." Etc...

After negotiating that, we moved on to Resolution Two: On Room Tidiness.

I was told that I no longer get to stand in the middle of the room like Snow White at the Seven Dwarfs' house, snapping my fingers and pointing while warbling things like, "Pick up those slippers!" and "Why is there a pile of dandelions under your dresser?" The new rules are that she's in charge of her space, but she has to:

• make her bed;
• put her dirty clothes in the laundry basket;
• keep stuff off the floor.

Negotiations continue about my right to "muck out", as I call it. Y'know, when the underwear drawer has become a worm habitat and the underwear is sent to share a box under the bed with the rock collection? We're still working that out. Very delicate business.

Is there anyone out there who has experience with 8/9/10 year-old girls? How are you dealing with privacy? Mess tolerance? Radio Disney?