Little Buds

It starts with body odor. Next are the little buds. Over the last couple of weeks, I have noticed that my daughter has developed little buds. I am not sure she even notices them...I am sure she has but she keeps some info to herself.

Wait. I am going to call her into my room to ask about this...

Okay. So she noticed. Her word was "kinda" noticed. She said, "Ava wears a bra." I also have it on good authority that one of her friends already "has her period." Anyway, I just told her to let me know when she feels like she needs a "bra." Her school does not offer a structured PE, so I think her need or desire to wear the useless apparatus will be delayed compared to her public school peers. I also told her to let me know if she starts to have any questions about her body. We have already had "the talk."---several times.

Then she changed subjects by noticing my toes: "I painted my toenails red too." Then she grinned. I noticed her missing six-year molar (she pulled at a friend's house yesterday evening). "You can grab a dollar from my dresser." We never really went into fairy tales about supernatural tooth bandits that abscond with children's teeth in the middle of the night. The dollar just signifies a rite of passage.

Then we talked about nail polish and glue...

My other, younger daughter, well...she is a very curious cat. I found her hovered around a magazine with Zack Efron (or however you spell his name) on the cover. However, she did mention that he was not a "hottie." I had to ask my oldest daughter several days ago who this Zack Efron (or however you spell his name) guys was. A Disney kid. I am curious though, almost from a sociological standpoint, what American seven-year-olds define as "a hottie?" I am not sure I use that phrase very often (of course, my husband is a hottie.)

And I suppose that I was curious too. I remember wanted to marry Michael Jackson (during the thriller years and before he was so freakin' creepy). I think his celebrity made him an ideal candidate for nuptials. ...it seemed to work for Elvis's daughter. Gross. Or maybe I just appreciated a good dancer--he was a really good dancer, y'all!

In the dorkiest mother way: I once found a magazine* with an ad that portrayed a man with flames around him. I should this to my oldest daughter and said: "now he's a hottie!" I probably snorted with laughter. My daughter looked at me. Pause. And she cracked up. I could totally tell, though, it was the mom-is-such-a-dork laughter. We both started laughing really hard.

I always tease my girls and tell them they will be grounded if they grow up. But they will. And it is sad and beautiful and all those things that drive life. But mostly, it is an opportunity for my husband and me to share those moment together...and to raise responsible girls who will pick mom up at the bar when she has had to much to drink.

*We have an abundance of magazines around the house. All of them are men's fashion mags. My father-in-law subscribed to them for Spencer, because both men work in, well, men's fashion. Staying abreast (I crack myself up) of the competition.