the other moms

I dyed (sp?) my hair red yesterday, but it turned out sort of purple. I kind of like it, but I think my 9 year old daughter Jane and I have reached a new place in our mother-daughter relationship because Jane is suddenly objecting quite strenuously to the purpleness of my hair. Previously, she seemed rather enthralled with anything I did to my hair, asking if she could do it too.

Jane and I spent the afternoon together yesterday, just the two of us, doing some shopping and then riding horses together, and she repeatedly expressed her opinion that my hair is simply not acceptable.

"Mom, you are too old to have purple hair," she said. "Can't you just get blond highlights like the other moms?"

Last week, my son Henry, who is 13, also told me he wishes I were more like "the other moms," who in his milieu, are all considerably older than I am (I had H when I was 23 - they all had their kids when they were 33). "The other moms" all apparently know how to cook, never say "fuck," or lose their keys, have televisions at home, and work very few hours, allowing them to do a lot of volunteering at his school.

When pressed, however, Henry's main concern seemed to be that I should turn down Death Cab for Cutie when I pull up in the car line to drop him off at school in the morning. I can do that.