While it was bound to happen, and though I cannot say that I am displeased with the situation, I nonetheless cannot but feel a bit odd and old when I tell y’alls that my daughter, the Smoopster, has begun menstruating…getting a monthly delivery of a box of red roses…taking a little ketchup with her steak…getting visits from aunt Flo…occasionally closing for maintenance…having her terrorist alert go to code red…having communists invade her summer house…joining the hunt for red October…taking her meat rare…brewing on auto-drip…painting the town red…punctuating…rebooting the ovarian operating system…seducing the vampires…sitting on a nice merlot…getting her oil changed…letting Mother Nature stay at her hotel…offering the sacrifice…counting down from egg #180…having her walls repainted…receiving her monthly statement…reapplying her lipstick…playing the Red Sox while they are in town…riding the cotton pony…having her pixies…taking Carrie to the prom…surfing the crimson tide…warring in Virginia…putting too much sauce on the taco…having visits from the Cardinal… Enough? Hey, if I can’t laugh about it, find joy in it, then I will just have to be sad about aging. Anyway, I have come to love my periods — I think of them as healthy and powerful (cheesy and new-agey tho that sounds) and I hope she does too. We will be partying Monday night in celebration of the event. Huzzah! Every change and development in her that I am priviledged to witness is a fantastically magical thing.
Just Kristin
… a gentil harlot and a kynde.

Congrats to Smoo on “joining the club”. :) I got a little misty-eyed thinking someday my little hitchhiker will be going through that too! I’m not ready for it yet, though, so I’m glad I have quite a few years to prepare. Good for you mom for being positive!