March 2nd, 2010 11:59am
First Kiss
Over the weekend, while my texting tween was hunched over her cell phone, she paused long enough to ask me if she could go over to the house of this new “friend” to hang out. I agreed, thinking that it was no different than when she went over to one of her other guy friend’s house. Her first guy friend had been friends with her since 1st grade, and for several years had even considered themselves best friends. I had gotten to know this kid well, as well as his family. And there had never been any reason to not let them hang out. But after I agreed to let my daughter hang out with this new “friend”, I immediately regretted the words. Why? My daughter was a tomboy, naturally drawn to being one of the guys at school, and chatting with her guy pals on Facebook. So what was causing me to bristle at the thought of her hanging out with one of the guys?
For one, it was the way they had been texting back and forth consistently for the past several days. Two, it was the way she lit up, eager to talk up his good points every time I asked a few innocent questions about who he was, what he liked, his intentions for my daughter, plans for the future, and what his parents did for a living. You know, innocent. Three, she was getting to the age when male-female friendships developed into something more than just hanging out, and I wasn’t sure that I had counseled her enough on matters of the heart and the art of being chaste.
Most of all, it was that I didn’t even know this kid or his parents. (more…) 
A mom I know recently told me the story of her daughter and herself. As a single mom of just one girl, the two were incredibly close. My friend relied on her daughter to help out around the house and take care of her own responsibilities. And she was never disappointed. The two worked as a team to get dinner on the table, keep the house straight, and that all homework was done promptly and turned in on time. The two spent a lot of time together outside of school and work. The daughter talked often with her mom about problems she was having at school or with friends, when she thought a particular boy was cute – pretty much anything that crossed her mind. Jr. High came, which meant a new schedule at a new school, and new friends to meet. It’s interesting, things didn’t change overnight, as my friend remembers. But they did change rapidly. Her once sweet and kind daughter suddenly became sullen and angry. She stopped helping so much around the house. And the biggest change?
My daughter sat on the couch, her phone never leaving her side. Every now and then it would vibrate. Like clockwork, she would flip it open, read it, then send back a quick reply. This wasn’t just going on for a short time, this had been going on all day long. I asked her who she was texting, and after many retorts of how little business it was of mine, she finally told me it was a boy at her school. The fact that she was texting a boy was not alarming. Most of her friends are guys, and one of her guy friends and her texted each other often. Most of their texts consisted of “Sup”, or “LOL”, or “My brother’s a dweeb”. Nothing to write home about. And definitely nothing that raised my eyebrows (except to roll my eyes at how lame it was). But this was different, this was a boy I had never heard of. And with the way they were texting each other for hours on end, it was obvious that this was not just some friend.
As parents, it is our job to guide our children and teach them important lessons in life. But sometimes it is our kids who are teaching us. Here are some very important lessons I have learned from my children.
12 years ago today, I was looking my newborn daughter in the eyes for the first time. I held her tiny body (all 9 lbs, 12 oz of her) and couldn’t believe that they were going to let me take her home. Didn’t they know I had never done this before? I wasn’t sure I could be trusted to know when to feed her or how often to change her diaper. I was unsure what would happen if I ever stopped counting how many times she breathed. I was sure, with as fragile as her body was, that I was going to be the one to break her. I mean, I couldn’t be trusted to carry more than a couple dishes at a time. I had broken my mother’s favorite coffee cup that way. I wasn’t very careful with my books, still guilty of dog-earing the pages and returning borrowed paperbacks with the hints of everything I had eaten that week between the pages. And some of them were just never returned at all. I couldn’t for the life of me put things away in their proper place. Hair supplies sometimes were in the art cabinet. Food storage containers were under my bed. Our only flashlight was somewhere in a pile of stuff. And I couldn’t even remember where I had placed my nail clippers. I lost stuff all the time.
To celebrate, I told him we’d pick out something for dessert that night, and that I would let him pick out dinner. I was trying to think of ways to make this an even bigger deal. I even mulled over singing him “Congratulations to you” to the tune of Happy Birthday. Don’t worry, that idea never manifested. But I was just beaming with pride. I immediately let Mr. Wonderful know, and then let the rest of the world know by posting the news as my Facebook status.
Life seemed to start when my daughter was born in February of 1998. I was 20 years old and I knew nothing about motherhood. 3 years later and I also became the mom of a son. But when I look back at all that now, I can see that this was only the prologue. Life changes, and mine certainly did when I became a divorced mom with two kids to raise.