Last night Lydia and I were getting ready to take a shower when she looked at me thoughtfully and said, “Sometimes I get nervous that people will think you look strange.”

I asked, “Do you think I look strange?”

“Well, no,” she said, pausing a moment before continuing, “but I think maybe they look at you and think, That can’t be Lydia’s mom. Lydia’s so pretty and her mom should look pretty like she does.”

She sure knows how to land a direct hit on your ego, that kid.

Seriously, though, where does she come up with this stuff? She’s a beautiful child, sure, but I wish she weren’t quite so aware of it. When she was a baby, then a toddler, people used to stop us everywhere we went and tell us how gorgeous she was, and I worried that she would grow up thinking that looks are much more important than they really are, and it looks as if perhaps I was right to worry. I fear the situation will only get worse and harder to handle.

Along similar lines, I decided to wear my cool new sandals today since we’re finally having a nice day, but I needed to paint my toenails before I could wear them out and about. Not having any nail polish of my own, I went rummaging through Lydia’s room, then through some of her stuff in the downstairs bathroom, trying to find something suitable. I told Olof that it was an unwelcome sign that my baby girl is growing up that I was borrowing her beauty supplies. Of course, nail polish is fairly innocuous, and it is the only cosmetic she has, but still ….

Yesterday they had the big final in her Småstjärnorna contest. She and Ingrid didn’t win, but they did a good job and were easily second- or third-best among the five contestants (all of the four runners-up got a second prize, and I thought it was nice they didn’t all get ranked, first to last). The team that won was a group of four second-grade boys and they really were the best act. Surprisingly, the two oldest groups, from the fourth and fifth grades, had the least impressive performances. Maybe it’s not so surprising, though, considering that kids tend to get more self-conscious, and less able just to cut loose, as they get older.

Both Lydia and Ingrid were pretty disappointed, and not much consoled by their consolation prizes, but I think it passed quickly enough Lydia came home and got right to work planning a neighborhood contest, complete with scorecards and trophies. She and three or four of her friends will be rocking the house later this afternoon, and I’m sure there will be more tears and hurt feelings to deal with as a result. Growing up is hard work, and sometimes watching them grow up is even harder.