Remember to Smize

This past Monday, I took L to have her dance company photos made for their Spring Recital. According to the instructions sent home all dancers were required to wear makeup since bright lights would be used -- and we all know what bright lights do to a naked face. It ain't pretty.

So, naturally L was exceedingly enthusiastic about the prospect of getting to wear make-up and sticklips and fixing her hair all fancy. Not to mention posing for the camera in a fabulously purple-sequined tap-dancing costume.

I, of course, think she is beautiful anyway. But I'm also shallow enough to think that natural beauty can be enhanced by mascara and lip gloss. I realize that I have to be careful, though. I don't want to start filling her head with the unrealistic image of "ideal beauty" that you see on the cover of People Magazine. (Well, not a cover that features an overweight Kirsti Alley, of course. I mean the one that depicts Kate Gosselin after her tummy tuck.)

So, when L said, "I want to wear make-up so I will be beautiful," it opened the door to one of those 'Mom, do you ever get that not-so-fresh feeling' mother/daughter bonding moments.

I stopped what I was doing and sat down on the floor in front of her so I could look her in the eye. I took her hand and made sure she was really paying attention to what I had to say.

Very gently I explained, "Yes, honey, that's right. People who don't wear make-up are ugly. And fat. You don't want to be ugly and fat, do you?"

Wide-eyed, she responded, "Oh, no, Mummy, I do not!"

HAHAHAHAHAHA! I’m kidding. Relax people. Don't go all Toddlers and Tiaras on me.

What I really said was what you would expect a responsible, loving mother to tell her daughter -- that true beauty doesn't come from make-up or hair products or your plastic surgeon. It comes from within. If you are a beautiful and kind person on the inside, then others will see that come shining through.

She responded, "That’s great, Mom. You got any more blush? This shade is so last season."

At least I tried.

And all the while, there's two-year-old Z trying to curl his eye lashes with the curling tool -- and doing a surprisingly good job. But, that's a whole other post in itself.

At the studio, I feared I was capable of falling victim to the Pageant Mom Syndrome. I chased after her with a bottle of hairspray and a teasing comb saying things like, "Stop running! You're going to look all flushed!" and "For heaven's sake, get up off the floor, you're wrinkling your dress!" and "If you lick this lipstick off your lips one more time, I'm going to take you to a tattoo parlor and have sticklips permanently tattooed on your face!" and, of course, "Stop crying! Your mascara will run!!"

At the same time, I am trying to keep up with Z who is running all over the studio like a wild man. Finally, some of the older ballerinas caught his eye and he spent the remainder of the time doing stretches and poses with them at the barre. But, again, I’ll save that for a later post.

In the end, I think we walked away with a rather cute picture. However, I realized we've got to start working on her smile. What is it about kids -- they know how to flash a beautifully, stunning smile when they want you to give them an extra scoop of ice cream, but put a camera in front of their face and you get that fake, forced lips-pulled-back-over-the-teeth-in-a-freakish-sort-of-grimace-way smile. She will never be America's Next Top Model if she doesn't learn to -- as Tyra the Great says -- smize.

To all you non ANTM fans, that's "smiling with your eyes." Go to the nearest mirror and practice. Right now.

And at least put on some mascara.