Aselin

Unnamed child number one is going off to summer camp again. As I’m supervising the packing I’m appalled at the state of her underwear. There are elastic threads hanging from almost all of them, they’re faded, seams have holes they look terrible. They also look pretty small.

Holding up a shabby pair and mentally eyeing her backside I’m trying to figure out how the two go together. “Can you even fit into these?” I ask.

“Well, they cut off the circulation in my legs and leave a mark around my waist, but they’re all I have.”

Ohh, my poor neglected underwear orphan. I wonder why she didn’t mention anything but shrug it off to my stellar parenting skills.

Standing in our local purveyor of skivvies my teenager and I have one of those intergenerational awkward moments where I think she should get the princess underwear that will come up to her armpits and she would prefer the sassy six pack.

OK, it’s not that bad, but clearly I haven’t been up on the growing needs of my daughter. I’ve happily kept her in the “Barney Box” denying the fact that she’s actually growing into a young lady.

I swore I’d be a cooler mom than this.

Funny thing is I remember my own coming of age quite vividly, going from a tomboy that closely resembled the Peanuts character Pig Pen to Betty in the Archie comics. I remember the awkwardness of wanting my first bra but being to embarrassed to ask for help, or money. The changes that spiraled my whole psyche out of control and the feeling that no one understood me.

I was repeating the cycle. I’ve left my kid in a tourniquet of Barney underwear trying futilely to slow her growing up. I’ve been ignoring and worse neglecting elements of helping her navigate maturation. She’s starting high school. She’s a fantastic person. I enjoy pretty much everything about her... except her shabby underwear of course.

As I pay for her more suitable unmentionables I repent of my negligence. She smiles at me, unawares of the helpful and informative talk on the birds and the bees we’re going to have in the car.

I am so “the cool mom.”