As Time Goes By (and posts slip away)

My Baby Angel attended a Formal with her BFF tonight.



(remind me never to sew with stretch satin again. Hit me if I even suggest it, and perhaps point me at this post. >:-(.......)

These two have known each other since 2003 when, praise God, the BFF's family moved in across the road from us in Happy Valley (no, that is a real suburb!). We had just arrived from the UK in the January, knowing no-one, and my poor BA had been suffering from leaving a very large and tight knit group of friends in the UK. She had made a few school friends, but no-one that really resonated, until the BFF moved in. What an amazing blessing.

The redhead on the right was the school friend that we have not seen since 2005, the BFF is on the left.

Even though BFF is 14 months older, the two hit it off like the proverbial house on fire. Dress-ups were the theme of the day



developing as the years passed



and it appears dress ups are still the fave game.


So for this Formal, the BA was the date of BFF's twin brother. That's him there on the right.

Aaaaaaand, there on the right again.....

My how time flies!


To be honest, I think the girls had the best night dancing together!! High School Formals are like that :-)

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I have learned a lot from this one and I think the BA has too.
Lesson 1: Hair
The hair that looks good in a photo does not necessarily suit you. The back was pretty but she didn't like the front.
Lesson 2: Make-up
More is not necessarily better. Don't let the make-up wear you.
(note to self: make up short course as a Christmas present)
Lesson 3:
Never sew with stretch satin unless you are a whizz or have done some kind of a course.......
Lesson 4:
Picking up 16 year olds early from 'after parties' is definitely a good idea.......especially when you see young men helping themselves to two large bottles of vodka on the breakfast bar whilst you wait for your baby!!!!!:-(

On that note, I am fast reconciling myself to the fact that my area of expertise is younger children. In the warzone that is teen parenting, I find myself constantly a victim of 'friendly fire'.

Tonight, for some reason, I looked back over some unfinished (there have been many) posts from this last 18 months, and I found this:

85% Proof Parenting

"So Mum, if I were at a wedding, would you let me have a Breezer?" With this one question, innocuously asked after a visit with her father to an interstate cousin's wedding , the BA moved me deftly into the 'mega-hard, rethink your whole peace of mind', advanced section of the parenting course. Not for Sissies. I don't even know why I am making light of this. Except that of course I do. We make light of all difficult things in life in order to convince ourselves that they are less serious than they seem. Like Harry Potter we shout 'Riddikulus' at the boggart in the trunk, in the hopes that it will vanish into a puff of triviality and distress us no further. Of course, it's not going to happen. Having kept the spectre of the 'difficult teen years' at bay until now I am fully aware that I am about to be engulfed in the floodwaters. Back in July when La Jeune Fille was here, we had our first minor brush with the question of alcohol. The two of them had been invited to an 'end of exchange' party to be held at the home of one of the Year 11 girls who had had an exchange student. I didn't think twice about saying yes. It was a school function, at a parent's house....what could be simpler? Of course the BA returned full of excitement because alcohol had been provided by the parents and several members of the party had got 'very drunk'. She assured me she hadn't had anything and didn't appear anything other than her normal lovely self, but I noticed La JF slink off to bed
surreptitiously.

I am glad I didn't finish that post because it was going to rant on about the irresponsible parents who provide alcohol to under age children at parties. I am far less self righteous nowadays.

I also found this:

Formal: Part Two

A busy, and sometimes traumatic month down the track and I thought I would fill you in on the lead up to, and the second part of, the BA's Formal Adventure. I don't know how much you guys know about 'after parties'. In my day I don't think we called them 'after parties', I think they were called 'Join us for coffee and cake after the Formal'...usually on an invitation. Nevertheless, 'after parties' is what they're called now! I had a small idea about the phenomona from our own school formal last year, where I attended as a staff member. At the end of what was, let's face it, a pretty tame evening, there was a great buzz of excitement and much phoning and texting as pupils regrouped for the whispered 'after party'. Later, I was able to see from facebook photos that it involved a tent, apparently some music and, undoubtably, some alcohol. A little investigation revealed that this was a common event in school life today. The schools tend to cover their ears and go 'LA LA LA LA LA' as the parents organise the events and, apparently, often provide the alcohol. Well, some parents at some schools, I rather archly and naively snorted in my head. Or maybe it was out loud? Sometimes that happens.

Again, I failed to finish my sanctimonious post about the weakness of some parents. (although it was a good story and I should probably tell you sometime...)

Well tonight I sighed and drove my daughter home knowing full well that the no alcohol policy had been breached and all I said to her was 'I'm very disappointed'.

In retrospect, any stance I had on the issue shuddered majorly in its housings after that Halloween party where she went dressed as Cleopatra. Later in the week I saw photos on one of her friend's facebook sites, showing her clearly standing with a bottle of some sort of hideous blue alco-pop in her hand. I texted her that if she wanted to be allowed to go out with her friends, she needed to tell them not to post incriminating photos. I did not apply any other consequence.

Actually, the real crack in my fortifications, come to think of it, occurred at her own after party (the one that was the subject of the previous unfinished post) when she informed me (I was a chaperone) that she was going to have the two 'drinks' her entrance ticket entitled her to. I made a spot decision not to 'make a scene' and the two UDL cans were duly drunk, happy dancing ensued and she came away cheerful and satisfied.


So here I am, at this stage of her/our life. My innate parent sense tells me it is only going to get worse. What to do?

1) I could totally ban her from attending all social events where alcohol is supplied
(and they are MANY)

2) I can set acceptable limits and lower the boom gate when these are breached.

The only trouble is, I am wrestling with what the acceptable limits are. I thought I knew, I thought I held them securely in my hand. Now, in the reality of the situation, I feel their organic writhings and their nasty, sharp teeth.