Brain Barf

May contain traces of nuts.

Monday, March 05, 2007

(parent thesis)

Whenever I get frustrated with the offspring, my SOP is to remember myself at that age, how I felt, what I wanted etc.
It usually works, But:
  • I never wanted to be a cheerleader. My oldest daughter has been expressing interest, but, I feel that, the day that boys show up in short skirts (shorter than allowed by normal daily dress code like the cheerleaders at our high school) to cheer, and jiggle their body parts around, for the girls who excel at their sports, is the day I will support my daughters being cheerleaders. Of course, there is that whole exhausting free will thing but also the archaic, patriarchal degradation to women thing.
  • I've never been a boy or had a penis. My standard response to my boys is, "Your body is beautiful and awesome, but that should be done in your room." My girls were much younger than my boys are now, when they had questions and were given age appropriate information. I keep waiting for the Dad to step up, because it's unfamiliar territory for me. Advice/Mothers of boys PLEASE speak up. I'm failing them here.
  • I didn't date. I was raised ultra-conservative Mormon (meaning I snuck around, had sex for the first time at twelve, had no idea what was really going on, and was pregnant at sixteen.) The Profit says no dating until sixteen. I don't give a squat about his opinion, but sadly, still have a few residual twitches. So what the heck that my honor role twelve year old wants to go to the movies with a BOY?! Normal pre-teen activities are mostly a loss to me. We still write in our journal we keep for each other. We have used up three books already, and I have to say that it was one of the smartest things I've ever done (not that the list is very long).

That folks, dear gentile bloggers, is what's slogging around in the grey pools of my matter tonight. Also, buffalo wings sound REALLY good right now.


Labels:

2 Comments:

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home