"I do not want to have babies anymore!" Those were the first words out my dear daughter's mouth when she walked in the door yesterday. She threw her bookbag down and plopped down in the chair. She had the glazed, saucer eyed look of a child who just learned how babies were made. She had just received the talk...
I steered her into my bedroom to do some damage control. We settled onto my bed, with me being silly to ease her tension. Once we were settled I asked her lightly if she had any questions. She told me no, then hesitated. Then the questions came pouring out.
"Do boys get their periods?"
"Why do we bleed?"
She was freaked out about the eggs. Focused on the eggs. Obsessed with the eggs. I told her they were tiny, that women didn't squeeze eggs out like chickens once a month. That made her laugh, and she finally relaxed.
Over the hour we were in my room, we talked about periods, boys, clothes, our bodies, anything and everything came up.
I told her that God didn't make mistakes, and he made our bodies to work the way they did with a purpose.
We talked about peer pressure, about how her friends are going to try to talk her into things. We talked about making choices that felt right.
After our talk I went to make dinner, and instead of going out with her dad and the babies, she stayed inside with me. She decided to try her hand at doing dishes, and then set the table. She has a new confidence in her walk. She knows the secrets now, how a woman differs from a man, and feels more in control of herself.
After dinner she went for a jog, up and down the road. She is preparing for soccer season. I watched her out the window, my heart full. There was my girl, my little girl. She's growing up, and time goes so fast. She so wants it to speed up, and I desperately want it to slow down.