A Picture is Worth Seven Words

My mother always told me that I would be paid back for all of the trouble I caused her while I was a teenager.  I have to say, I laughed at her and most certainly did not believe her.  I chastised her into arguments and stated that if I were to be paid back, what had she done to deserve me?  I still wonder what she did as a teenager to suffer the likes of me.  She's not as forthcoming about her childhood.

The one aspect of Haven that is kryptonite to me is her beauty, not only of her soul, but of her physical being.  The kid is breathtaking inside and out.  Sure, she's mouthy and likes to test the boundaries, but those issues are easy for me to deal with.  I was a master at mouthiness and boundary testing.  She doesn't get much past me.

Her beauty has the potential to hurt me because it can lead to other complexities, like exploration.  Haven and I have had THE talk, and not my mother's version either. (My Mom told me that I would be grounded if I ever had sex.  I was always grounded anyway, so I went ahead and took the plunge.)  My talk with my daughter went a little more in depth than a potential grounding and hope it prevents her from diving right on in.

I've explained the mechanics of sex, the serious implications of sex, and have shown her pictures of genitals afflicted with sexually transmitted disease; I've talked to her about alcohol in relation to sex, I've told her that boys do not wash their hands, and have stressed to her that there is no need to participate in three-somes.  (If you don't believe me, please read this blog in it's entirety.)  When she leaves our house, the last thing I say to her is, "Please don't smoke, drink, or hump any boys."  Her friends giggle when they hear me say this, but I mean it.  I mean it to the moon and back.

The other night we were watching a movie and she asked me a question about the love scene that was playing out on the screen.  She asked me if it was awkward to have sex for the first time.  I was puzzled when she asked the question because I wasn't entirely sure if she was asking because of the movie or because she really wanted to know.  And if it was the latter, WHY did she want to know?  Fear paralyzed me.  I answered the question but did not ask mine.  I probably should have.

Every time she walks past me, I swear to God she gets prettier, and I know other people see it, too.  Her inner beauty is just as pronounced.

For example:  She sent me this picture via text message Saturday night:

I audibly gasped when I looked at the picture.  It took a while for me to take this picture in.  Then the thoughts started flowing:

Look at that hair!  Oh my goodness, I wish I had that hair!  I am glad it is covering her chest.  That is good.  Look how tall that boy is!  He better not be looking down her dress.  It certainly would not be hard for him to do.  God, she really takes after me.  I love a tall man.  How tall is he anyway?  7 feet?  Good lord, Haven looks like a little person standing next to him.  She would have to climb him like a tree to reach his face.  I wonder if she can smell his sweat?  I hope he's not sweating on her dress.  Dress?  She was definitely not wearing that dress when she left the house!  What the crap?  She was wearing shorts when she left the house.  I wonder who gave her that dress?  Could the dress she borrowed have been a little longer?  Longer is better.  I am going to have to talk to her friends about loaning her clothes.  And the zipper down the front?  Now that's just asking for trouble!  Aww, that smile.  I love that smile.  Man, her Grandmother spent a fortune on her teeth!  I wish she could see her right at this moment.  She looks so happy.  She looks very happy.  That pleases me.  Crap, look at her legs!  She has perfect legs. She needs to cover those legs. Gosh, she looks so cute in those boots!  Why is she holding on to him so tightly?  Let go!  Look at him holding her.  His other hand should be in his pocket!  Please put your other hand in your pocket.  Why do you have to be so cute? God!  

Here was my response:

As her 16th birthday approaches, I am fully aware that this next year may bring about some changes, that as a mother, I am not ready for.  As a former teenager, I know that the experience (whatever the experience might be) will be an important part of who she will become. 

I just wish she wasn't so darn beautiful.  I would not be opposed to her dealing with a bit of acne.  I wouldn't be opposed to anything that made her a little less appealing to every one.  I wouldn't be opposed to her having an awful natural body odor.  I wouldn't be opposed to all of these things happening at once.