I am THAT mother

Exactly six weeks before her seventh birthday my ‘don’t ever call me girlie’ tomboy announced she wanted to have her ears pierced.
We’d always said when she was old enough to understand what it meant, what it entailed and, hello, how much it hurt, and she could make the decision herself, we would allow her to sit in the chair at Claire’s Accessories and let the shop assistants punch holes in her ears.
And there is was. On the brink of the school summer holidays. And her birthday was just a week after going back to school.
She’d clearly thought about it because she asked her older brother if that could be his present to her and would be come with us to the shop and watch her have it done.

Fast forward nine weeks and she’s had her ears pierced and she’s been pretty amazing about the after care and keeping the original ones in for six weeks, despite the fact that she’d been bought a pair of silver horse shoe earrings by a friend and was DESPERATE to wear them.
Birthday money is burning a hole in her pocket – or at least in the One Direction shoulder bag someone else bought her. I think it may have been grandma; how COULD you grandma?!
Then while out shopping together for school uniform she sees them. She squeals a little, her eyes goggle, she may even have bitten her bottom lip for that is how excited she is.
And then she mutters a sentence I never thought would ever pass my daughter’s lips – in her twenties, let alone at the age of seven.
“Mummy, I LOVE those high heeled shoes. I want them. I’m going to buy them. Can I buy them?”

Dear internet. I am one of those mothers who lets their daughters wear high heeled shoes.
I have failed.
The Daily Mail are surely poised to write an expose in the manner of Katie Holmes and how she ruins her beautiful daughter Suri by allowing her to wear heels and handbags and lipstick.
But wait a minute. My little tomboy is physically shining as she hands over her cash and is passed the shop bag back with her new purchase inside.
It has actually made her day.
She probably only wears her shoes for minutes at a time as she totters around the living room. Most of the time her shoes are carefully placed at the foot of the chair she’s sitting at while watching the TV, just in range so she can glance down and admire them from time to time.
They’re really dressing up shoes. And what little girl hasn’t tottered around the house in her mum’s high heels? Only these shoes actually fit her.

So there you go, I’m defending being one of Those Mothers.
And if you’re judging me right now, just you wait until your little princess begs you to be a bit more girlie and can she wear your make up/shoes/handbag when all she’s wanted to wear in the past is her brother’s sports kit and never EVER a skirt.

By the way, that photo at the top? She’s only outside so I could get a photo. She’s never been allowed to leave the house in them.

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