Give Pierce a Chance

I don't strive to be a "cool mom." While I want my kids to enjoy being with me, I'm not looking to be their best friend. No Gilmore Girls here. In fact, I'm pretty uncool: I'm not exactly a paragon of fashion. I'm much too overweight and my skin is less than perfect (I'm at that my daughter's zits/my mothers wrinkles stage). I rarely drink at home and my substance abuse is mostly limited to a Grande 2% Caramel Macchiato. I'm a little prudish when it comes to sex (although I strive to be frank when discussing it with my kids) and I really don't like horror movies.

I do have a couple of tattoos. I think I'm the only one in my 12 person office with ink, but really it's not exactly the rebellion it once was. Fast-forward 50 years and the nursing homes will be full of wrinkled, tattooed seniors. Long before that, even my mermaid's boobs will be sagging. (Which reminds me of the hilarious SNL "Tattoo Remover" clip where the "pretty lady" back tat ages to say "pretty sad.")

In 1995, at the conclusion of 4 1/2 continuous years of breastfeeding, I considered getting my nipples pierced, but The Artist was against it. A good thing, as it turns out, since I've developed a moderate metal sensitivity that causes me trouble with rings and earrings. (I may be able to wear platinum, but probably will never find out.)

The Star, however, has been asking about getting her nose pierced for many months. I set up all sorts of barriers to gauge --pun intended-- her commitment: she had to be 13, she had to think about it at least 6 months, she had to have it done in a piercing studio (no DIY ice cube and needle), she had pay for it herself. After last week's garage sale, she had the cash and yesterday she got her nose pierced. She took one of her best friends (who we could call "The SkatePunk Poser" if we needed to, but we don't) whose mother would NEVER allow anything other than ear piercing. The after-care instructions took 20 minutes, the actual act took about 20 seconds.

I would now be thinking I'm a pretty cool mom, except that I didn't treat my kids the same. The Magician announced on Saturday that he too had made enough money at the garage sale to get a piercing--his ear. He's 11 and this was the first I had heard of this desire, although he claims he's been thinking about it "for awhile." Nevertheless, he now sports a steel ring in his left lobe. My justification? He's headed to middle school in September and he's small for his age...No, I don't really have any justification at all. It's that double standard raising its ugly head. Different rules for boys vs. girls.

The Magician has a girlfriend. No, really. She's just 10, but she's a woman who knows what she wants. She spurned all the other 5th grade boys and chose my son. She comes over some afternoons, sometimes stays for dinner, goes to the movies with him. She and her mom took him to a picnic on the Fourth. She's cute, funny, smart, talented. I hope that all of his girlfriends are as great.

The Star would not be allowed to hang out at her boyfriend's house, in the bedroom with the door half closed. She would not get to sit in the back of the dark movie theatre with her boyfriend, while a parent sat a few rows ahead. Is it just because of her gender or is it because we know her--and her sometimes questionable choices? Is it because 11 is more innocent than 13?

I don't really know how to make rules for them sometimes. Mostly they're treated the same, regardless of the 2 year age difference: same chores, allowance, bedtimes. As we head into the dating and driving years, the path gets less clear. Teen girls are more vulnerable than teen boys. And The Star is less level-headed than her brother, and more influenced by her peers. So while I totally earned cool points for letting them get pierced, I'm sure I'll lose all those points the next time I put my foot down about appropriate clothes or behavior. "Oh, MOM!"