, , , , , , , , ,

I’ve had the greatest conversations with my daughter lately.  And she’s asked some really tough questions, too.  Today she wanted to know where she was going to be when she died.  And she wanted to know why I grew up before her.  I know the “how did I get in your belly” question is coming soon.  I’m prepping my answer but if anyone has any suggestions & advice on that one, I’m all ears.  I don’t want to lie to her about this stuff.  But I don’t think she needs to know all of the gory details either.  It’s trying to find that right balance between answering her question with just enough detail to satisfy the curiosity.  In case you don’t know, my mother did not do this for me.  She would change the subject and avoid the topic and forced me to learn about this stuff from the movies or from friends at school.  I’ll be the first to tell you that neither one is a good option.  Do you have any idea how many questions I had?!  But I had no one to ask them to.  So I eventually found my answers as I grew up.  

She’s also been talking about what makes her angry and what makes her happy.  I am loving this so much.  I never had this relationship with my mom (obviously) and it still hurts me to think that it wasn’t important to her.  I’ve forgiven her for it although I’d never tell her that I even thought about it.  Maybe if she asked me I would.  I just love that we (daughter and I) are able to be open and honest with each other about things right now.  I know she is very young but this is where it starts.  She needs to know she can trust me to answer her questions and she needs to feel comfortable asking them.

I think we are making such great strides because I’ve stopped “pushing” the conversations.  I ask her about school and how her day was.  I ask about the friends she plays with and what types of games they play.  I ask her what her most favorite part of the day was.  Most days that gives me a pretty general response but there are days where she gets into something she really liked.

There are also days where she tells me about the mean kids in school.  I despise mean girls and there a lot of them.  I was always the one singled out by them bitches, too.  I know my daughter will go through it and I need to let her figure it out but it sucks.  I’d like to punch them all in the face but apparently that’s frowned upon.  Oh well….