Mini, Nearly 9 and Doing Fine(ish)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know all Mum’s say the same, but bloody hell, how the hell did she get to 9?!?!

When I was 9, I was:

A gigantic geek

Wearer of a dodgy wonky fringe

Busting Deirdre specs (RIP Anne)

Still playing with Barbies.

Not so my social media loving (not so much a) baby doll.

Mini is a fully fledged member of the new generation where cool stands for something very much not cool or what it was when I was 9 (in 1991, fact fans). In her gang (The Awesome Girls) cool stands for “Constipated Over-rated Old Lady”, which is what I am told with a sigh anytime I tell her that something is cool.

I am definitely cool in her new meaning anyway. Not in a 1991 way at all.

Elder and I tried to decide what on earth to get this creature which was once quite sweet and is now loathe of anything we do or say as we are old. She is like I expected her to be at 14, when they can blame hormones and stress of Secondary School. I am not alone in feeling that 8/9 is the new 13/14. Most of the girls in year 4 now go feral the very second they cross out the door in Year 3 in July. It certainly was true of Mini, who went to Camp Bestival last year as a fully functioning little girl and lover of pink and girly stuff and came back a stamping, moody, door slammer extraordinaire.

We were stumped. She doesn’t like much that she did last year.


A very Mini, aged 1

She does slyly play with Barbies. And dolls. She just thinks we don’t realise. She wouldn’t play with them in front of mates though, in an attempt to be grown up, and cool, but not cool, cool in a 1991 9 year old way.

See, it’s all very confusing. Its like text speak, but the annoying child version of secret words and nudges.

We asked whether she wouldn’t just like to have some money and buy her own stuff.

It would seem she would indeed, being that what I buy her is now so disgusting and not awesome that I cannot be trusted to pick her clothes anymore.

I have, it would seem, created a monster. An over opinionated, prone to epic hissy fits, girl.

Then we had her hair recently.

I have banned fringes. They are the bane of my life, since my own wonky incarnation of the buggers. Mini had a fringe via the fact she was a little girl until I grew it out. Since 4, she has been fringe free, and owner of longish hair (except that time in 2012 she got into Jessie J and cut it herself to shoulder height).

I asked her Dad to get her a trim.

Big mistake, as he is rubbish at saying no. So, despite my no fringe decree, she came back with hair shorter than ever, and a bloody fringe. I now have to keep this straight and tidy. I am wonky. Its never going to happen, and the last time I let Elder cut it when she about 3, it ended up looking like Spocks.

To make matters worse, she then cut another chunk off herself off the sides.


Mini, about two weeks ago before her Talent Show

All her friends say they love her hair- all of them are, one by one, having fringes put in. They are a fringe army, a hormonal bubble of half playing tag, and half making up nicknames for each other which I, personally, am not allowed to use.

It’s quite scary, actually.

It’s how I felt I would be out of touch when she was a teen. But then, that’s standard. I always had a deep mistrust of the Mums who desperately tried to keep up with us in our teens, fearing they would fish for info then grass me up to my Mum for my smoking or wearing Zoe’s heels when I got to her house and putting my sensible options in my bag all day. Or the one’s who would try and join us at the Ice Bowl- annoying by default of “we don’t want a Mum there as we can’t try and look alluring to the older boys” and of meaning we had to actually pay to get in, not have one of us pay and then the rest sneak in and get boots as we knew the boot room girl.

I kind of thought at this age it would still be all hugs and crafts and her thinking I was the best thing ever.

I think I rate around 20th in her list of girls and woman she likes the best, behind all of Little Mix, several characters from Jessie, my nieces and all her mates.

It remains to be seen what she buys with her Birthday money.

We are taking her out Sunday, and her (stupid) Dad said she can do with it what she likes. Forgetting that when she buys day glo Minion leggings and Little Mix crop tops, we have to walk down the street with her.

The one thing she wants to do though I have put my foot firmly down- ear piercing. No amount of own birthday money is going to change my mind of that.

What about your 9 year old? Is it just a Berkshire thing? Is it just a Mini and her awesome girls thing?  I am the only one who thinks Awesome Girls sounds like a band from the Jem Starr doll of my childhood? Let me know in the comments 🙂