This morning daughter came out to the kitchen wearing a shirt that she helped herself to from my closet.

Is that my shirt?
Yes.
Oh.

And that was that.

I guess you would have to know my daughter to appreciate the fact that I don’t give a lick that she shops in my closet. I’m fine with it because she’s bright, modest, considerate, kind of a quiet-shy-nose-in-a-book type but apparently *dun DUN dun duuuuun* her hormones just woke up and saluted. My goal is to make this transition to tweenhood as easy on both of us as possible.

I understand and am young enough (thank the Lord above) to still remember what this awakening feels like. I was much younger when my hormones perked up but we’re not talking about me here. I had issues. My daughter was a totally different girl just weeks ago. Now, with a few months of middle school under her belt, she’s wearing concealer on her nose due to little pink pimples that have taken up residence there, she’s asked about shaving her legs and now wears a training bra every day. She is all of a sudden very into shoes and since we wear the same size, I’ve been stocking up. Heh. She needs. I need. We all need good shoes.

There have been mood swings and days where whatever seems to be wrong with her (which is really hard to figure out) is all my fault. There have been tears. Ugh. The worst was when she told me that some kid was making fun of her because she had a big pimple on her nose.  There have been huge dilemmas about outfits for school dances, having the right kind of bookbag and finding cool shoes for cotillion. As it turns out, Payless is not cool.

Luckily, nothing much has been said about boys yet but I know it’s coming. At her age, I had like a million boyfriends by then (issues, remember? ) so I guess I can be glad she’s moving at a much slower pace than her mother. With boys on the horizon, and pimples & boobies percolating, it seems to be the right time to have the talk with her. You know – THE talk. Not about her period – she knows all of that stuff – about sex. Sex, sex, sex…..

I don't know why this is such a challenge for me. I think I got my birds & the bees talk when I spied my cat doing it doggie style in the backyard. Mom had to tell me something with all that meeeYOWing going on. So she did and as I recall, I already knew most of it. I wonder if my daughter will too.

My baby is growing up! I need to deal with that fact and just do the deed. Maybe I should put a sticky note on her soccer ball like in those drug ads on TV. “We need to talk. Just say no.”

Hey…It might work.

How old were you when you got your Birds & The Bees talk? Have you had it with your kids? 

Kimberly lives with her family in Broad Run, Virginia where she writes about her daily life on her personal blog Petroville, talks photography at Joslyn Place and mixes it up with her friends around the beltway at The DC Metro Moms Blog. You can also find her on Twitter @Kimberle...mostly just yakking it up.