Yesterday was a normal day. That is, until it wasn’t. Until I heard the most upsetting, most nerve-wracking, most insane thing. I heard something no mother is ever prepared to hear.
I heard from a reliable source (her doctor) that my daughter, my sweet baby, had started PUBERTY!!!
Oh my gosh, I played it SOOOOO cool. I mean, I was the epitome of coolness when her doctor told us. I smiled, I nodded. I continued smiling, as he went in to detail about the timeline and what we should expect from the next 6 months to 2 years. I took it in, as he spoke about how tall she would get, the hair she would grow. I looked mature, nodding along as he spoke. I looked like I could handle it. But, let me tell you, inside I was SCREAMING!
I hadn’t processed that she was actually growing up, actually getting bigger. And, no joke, I didn’t even notice she had grown…wait for it…BOOBS! Legitimate little boobs.
I see her everyday, but somehow this missed my view.
So, I made it through the doctor visit, made it through the parking lot, into the car, and was about to freak out until I looked in the backseat at my no longer little girl. She seemed a bit overwhelmed.
So, against every bone in my body, instead of squealing in nervousness, I turned and asked her,” “What do you think about all of that? Puberty, period, body hair, boobs? Are you shocked? Nervous? Excited? Or just feeling a little weird?”
She told me she felt weird. And asked about all the stuff. And I got to share with her the icky stuff, the fun stuff, and the weird stuff. We talked the rest of the afternoon about what would happen to her body, to her emotions, and the scientific explanations of it all. I was even brutally open about how much it was going to suck; the cramps, the moods, the stains.
Her best response of the day, “EVERY MONTH!!!” (complete shock)
It was amazing. It was a mother/daughter experience to write home about. We forged a new step in our relationship, and she sounded so grown up. Whether I’m ready or not, it seems this thing is bound to happen.
The truth is, I am no expert when it comes to puberty conversations. I would never pretend to be. But it turns out I am really good at talking to my own kid about it.
Now full disclosure. After she fell asleep, I squealed, and screamed and freaked the “you know what” out! My poor spouse listened while I just got all the crazy out there.