The Princess and the BFF

Almost exactly two years ago, my princess's BFF moved seven hours away.  This move was so hard on my girl because in addition to being her BFF, the girl who moved was also, to use her own words, "her only Black friend."  It is hard to describe how important it was to have her BFF in her life.  It did so much for her self-image and confidence to have a friend who looked like her and had a shared experience of being Black in a mostly white town.  It was devastating as her mother to watch my usually stoic girl grieve the loss of her kindred spirit. 

BFF's mother and I have worked to help them maintain their friendship.  We have made car and train rides back and forth, and went on a joint vacation this past spring break.

My princess has made new friends, of course.  But it's not the same.

This week BFF came to stay with us.  And I have to admit, my princess is different when she's here.  She laughs more.  She's more outgoing. She's just so. . . happy.

So this week our mother-daughter time consisted of me driving my princess and BFF. . . shopping, movies, Six Flags, shopping, wherever their little hearts wanted to go.  I took a back seat this week.  The peach cobbler we had planned to make together was already out of the oven when I got home.  And I didn't mind a bit.

   

Holocaust Film Festival

Our film festival last summer was such a success, my princess and I decided to try it again this year.  Unfortunately, she studied the Holocaust this year in history, and decided she wanted to watch all the best Holocaust movies.  I begrudgingly agreed, though a couple of the movies I had sworn I would never watch again.  I dreaded each one. 

We jumped right in with Life is Beautiful.  My princess wasn't too sure about it, especially when she found out it was in Italian with English subtitles.  However, when I shared with her my reaction the first time I watched it (I got into bed with my then-four-old, who was the same age as the boy in the movie, and sobbed) she was intrigued.  I never wanted to watch it again, but I did, and I survived.  To my surprise, my princess cried and cried at the end.  She ran off right after the movie ended, and the next day admitted she went upstairs to cry some more.  It is such a beautiful movie, but I don't plan to ever watch it again.  It's just too sad. 

Next we watched Paperclips and The Pianist, neither of which I had previously seen.  Paperclips was recommended to us, and though interesting, we both thought it was too long.  It did give us a lot to talk about, though, as it is a documentary about middle school kids in a small town in Tennessee learning about the Holocaust.  We both loved The Pianist, though in fairness to Adrien Brody, we probably should have watched it before Life is Beautiful.  Nothing really had a chance afterwards.

We concluded our film festival with a special viewing of Schindler's List at a neighbor's house.  It was a special experience because our neighbor is Jewish, so we were able to gain a different perspective than we would have had alone in our family room.  Schindler's List is such a powerful film, and gives such an amazing portrayal of what life was like in the concentration camps. 

We had watched The Boy in the Striped Pajamas and Sophie's Choice prior to the summer, but we also compared them to the others.  Each movie moved us in its own way, and though I did not look forward to these movies, I am so glad to have experienced them with my daughter.  We had so many interesting conversations following the movies, and I think we both grew as people through the process.  I don't enjoy Holocaust movies, but they do force me to remember, every day, that life is beautiful. 

Feelings Film Festival

My princess is not very emotional.  She doesn't cry easily, and doesn't get into drama.  I tease that she has ice water running through her veins.  So last summer, I set out to find a movie that would make her cry (because what quality mother doesn't spend the summer trying to make her teenage daughter cry?)  I put my request on Facebook, and friends suggested the saddest movies of all time.  We watched them all summer.  Here are a few of the things I learned during this adventure. . .

1.  Although I've seen it dozens of times, the funeral scene in Steel Magnolias still makes me cry every time.  I have a guttural reaction to it, producing sobs that sound like a dying animal.  I'd like to say it's only because I am a mother, but I believe I reacted the same way almost 25 years ago, when the movie first came out. 

It does not, however, produce the same reaction in teenage girls.  At least not mine.

2.  Fried Green Tomatoes keeps its place on my Top 5 Movies of All Time.  It is funny, thoughtful, and sad, all the things a movie should be.  The cast is perfect, from Mary Stuart Masterson's maybe-lesbian hero, to Kathy Bates's insecure southern wife.  My daughter liked it, but didn't love it, and it didn't make her cry. 

3.  Most of the movies, in fact, did not make my princess cry. . . not Debra Winger's tearful death in Terms of Endearment, or Sophie's gut-wrenching choice.  It was the story of an eleven-year-old boy with an allergy to bees that finally touched her heart.  During the funeral scene in My Girl, I glanced at my daughter, who had tears streaming down her beautiful brown cheeks. 

It was good for me to see, to remember that despite how fast she's growing up, and how mature she sometimes seems to me, that my princess is still a little girl in many ways, and the death of a little boy would affect her more than the death of someone who probably seems old to her.  I'm glad now, looking back, that my girl is still just that.  

The Big Apple

On the cusp of her teen years, in the spring before she turned thirteen, my princess and I traveled together to New York City.  If you've never done a one-on-one trip with your kid (separately if you have more than one kid), I strongly recommend it.  There is something very special about embarking on an adventure-- just the two of you-- and seeing where it will take you. 

We went over spring break, and it was a little chilly.  My little sister joined us for part of the trip. 

We did all the things you're supposed to do when you visit New York City. 

 



We went to the Statue of Liberty.



We ate at Hard Rock Cafe.



We went to the top of the Empire State Building.

But mostly what we did was walk.  We walked and walked and walked.  We walked through Central Park, and to three different museums.  We walked down Park Avenue, and through ecclectic neighborhoods.  We stopped every day we were there and got a vanilla steamer (kind of like a hot chocolate but with vanilla). 

Sometimes we talked while we walked, and sometimes we just walked.  It didn't matter.  We figured out how to take the subway and navigate the city streets.  We were together, out in a big city, finding our way. 

On our last night we went to see the Lion King.  If you ask my princess, she'd probably say that was her favorite part of the trip.  That, and the vanilla steamers.  The Lion King was amazing-- maybe the best show I've ever seen.  But my favorite part was the walking with my girl. 

These Precious Years

My princess is the spittin' image of her father.  The moment she entered the world, my husband nicknamed her "Little Debra" after his twin sister.  She is a wiz on the softball field, can run like the wind, and has no time for other people's drama.  But she's MY daughter-- my only daughter-- and I love her something fierce.   I am determined not to lose her during these precious teenage years.  

My princess loves to play catch with her daddy-- that is how they bond.  She and I needed something different, something ours (preferably something I didn't suck at).  And so began our mother-daughter adventures.  Some are big and some are small; sometimes we have planned every second, and other times we are impulsive and spontaneous.  Often they aren't even "adventures" but rather shared experiences, conversations, or moments.  Whatever they are, I cherish every one, and I file them away, so when I look back on these years when my princess was a teenager, I will remember more laughter than tears.