Tag Archives: blog

Becoming a Young Lady: How I Handled My Daughter’s Transformation

5 Jul

It’s been several years since my last post.  Various events in my life have led me to have little to virtually no time for myself, all of which I could have blogged about and they would have been great stories, however, I’ve tried dedicating what little time I do have to my children.  With that being said, my comeback post relates to my now 11 year old daughter and the dreaded step closer to becoming a woman.girls-on-their-period_o_2073325

Yes, you read correctly, how can I say it more clearly without causing alarm, MY 11 YEAR OLD DAUGHTER got her period.  I never thought the day would come and yet, like a freak hurricane, IT arrived in full force.  She freaked out, I freaked out and more than anything, my son freaked out. My 8 year old daughter thought it was cute and adorable, I found that a bit disturbing.  She obviously has no idea what monster she’s got coming to her.  Nonetheless, after running around like a crazy lady and “confirming” several times that she had actually started her period, we got dressed and prepared to make our trek to the store to “shop” for her items.  Upon arriving at our local supermarket we made our way to the “feminine products” aisle where I was faced with a plethora of choices for her.  I was lost.  I had no idea what to choose for her.    I know you’re asking yourselves how this is possible since I’m a woman too.  Well, I’m 34 and for the last 20 odd years or so, I have been going to the exact same spot at the supermarket picking out the exact same feminine product, not once paying any mind to the endless other choices.

Anyways, while standing in the aisle scoping out our options, my daughter begins to have a breakdown.  Tears start streaming down her face and she is absolutely mortified at the thought of having to pick out something that is absolutely normal.  Meanwhile, my 8 year old screams out at the top of her lungs, “Mom is that going to happen to me too!”  My poor 11 year old had the most upsetting look on her face.   Of course, I’m not helping the situation by giggling at each option I look at and trying to explain the different pros and cons of each product.  Finally, my sympathy for her kicks in and I help her choose one pack that looks like it is geared towards “preteens”.  My daughter, rightly so, makes me carry the box to the register and she stands as far away from me as possible, as if I’m holding something that presents imminent danger to her life.  So I pay and we walk out of the store and head on home.  In my head, I’m trying to go over HOW I’m going to show her how to use these things, these “feminine pads” and I’m dreading every bit of it.  We arrive at home and my daughter rushes to the restroom, me following behind.  I begin the exhausting process of explaining exactly how this product is to be used and the normality of it all.  I have “the” talk with my daughter about the importance of crossing the little girl to young lady threshold and I stress the importance of being careful in any situation she may be presented with.  I have to remind myself several times that, regardless of her age, her young mindset, HER body has began to transform itself to that of a young lady.

I can’t help but shed a few tears, my little girl is growing up, and dammit I think I handled it pretty damn well.

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Writing Your Own Autobiography is Difficult

4 Jun

pen-and-notebook

I am not a professional writer, nor a professional blogger.  Actually I’m not very artistic or good at self expression at all.  But I have always wanted to write a book, at least start off with an autobiography.  I don’t consider my life to be too extravagant but I think I have had enough experiences, good and bad, happy and sad to write about.  Starting this blog is my first step at self expression.  I have always been one to keep everything inside.  I rarely let out my emotions and when I do, unfortunately it’s not very pretty.  I think that by beginning to blog it will help me heal some wounds that I have had, wounds that are still open, still feel fresh.  These are wounds from family, wounds from friends, wounds from men, wounds from myself.   Even as I write this post I find it difficult for a feeling inside me, a pain in my heart perhaps, begins to form and tears slowly form in my eyes.  I have started to write this “book” of mine, chapter 1 is in the works but I found myself needing to stop fairly early.  Writing about my childhood means visiting some of those wounds again and reigniting the pain.  I began to write (or type in this case) and quickly  had to stop, take a deep breath, close my eyes, think for a bit and start again with some renewed strength.  I think it may take me some time to write this book for I have many areas of my life that I have shut off for certain reasons.  Opening them back up is going to take some time and some careful approach but I think that the time is right.  The time is now.  I need to find some sort of way to forgive myself before I can forgive others.  Then and only then I can move on and write about how I have overcome these obstacles and how I have found new happiness in my life with myself and my children.

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