Recently the girls and I have had some deep conversations on topics including modesty, sexuality, addictions, homelessness, abortion, adoption (not always using those exact terms) ... and the list could go on.
These are uncharted waters for me as a mom and often they make me a little nervous. But a really good, "meaty" conversation with my girls is almost always followed by a sense of contentment. Not a happy-go-lucky sort of contentment; but rather a satisfied sort of contentment that we've taken another baby step in the right direction towards laying the groundwork for good values and right choices now and in the future.
A few weeks ago, I decided to introduce the girls to a worn book from my childhood, entitled "How You Became You." As I remember it, this book was given to me by my parents at the appropriate age (and at the same time my sisters received their own age-appropriate books of a similar nature) with the instructions: Read this and get back to us if you have any questions.
I don't remember asking any questions. Intimate issues were just not something we freely discussed in our family, and I imagine that was true for many families likes ours 20+ years ago. But innocence is not always bliss, and in this day and age the reality is even harsher and "more in your face" than ever before. I feel a deep responsibility to somehow guard my little girls' hearts while at the same time I must educate them with the right information before they absorb the confused and perverted messages all around them.
And when I say "all around them," I am not speaking metaphorically.
In our city, we daily see billboards of an explicit nature. Soon after our arrival, just blocks from home and on our regular route to school, a billboard was hung that created much discussion with the kids in the car. It was an enormous close-up of a woman's backside, in cut-off shorts that would have made Daisy Duke blush and left nothing to the imagination. Our answers to their questions ran the gamut from humorous ("Oh, isn't that sad? She doesn't have enough money to buy shorts that fit her!") to instructive ("Just don't look at that, honey. It's not a good picture.") to very annoyed ("I can't believe that is still up there! I wish we could just spray paint some clothes on that woman.") Finally the offending picture was removed, only to be replaced a few blocks away by a billboard showing a gigantic (as in very tall) woman towering over the cityscape and wearing only see-through black undergarments.
So you see what I mean. Besides the billboards, there are the couples making out at bus stops and on the beaches and in the parks; the kids smoking dope in broad daylight; the immodest dress; and the endless beat and suggestive lyrics of reggaeton music pounding at every social function - from school events to 7-year old birthday parties with seemingly no conscience of how inappropriate it is for the children (and adults, for that matter) hearing it.
I am so thankful that up to this point the girls have felt the freedom to talk to me about these issues. It's something I have to plan for and encourage, however; it doesn't simply happen. A new window of "girl time" has been opened for us recently with Owen's soccer class on Saturday mornings. Pedro has a weekly meeting at the same time, so the girls and I get to use that hour and half for ourselves. Last week, we walked downtown and so many questions and comments spilled from the two of them that I could hardly keep up! For instance, from Eva: "Why do some people think we came from monkeys, Mom? We saw a movie in school and the monkey kept getting bigger and bigger until it became a person!" and from Isabel: "Why doesn't that lady mind that her skin is showing so much? She's not very modest!" and from both: "Mom, come look! There's someone sleeping over there! Why is he sleeping on the ground? Doesn't he have a bed?"
I love this "girl talk" and hope that the questions keep coming for many years, though I know I'll feel more and more inadequate to the task. My greatest desire for my girls is that they will become strong, godly women in love with their Savior and His will for their lives. I know that I am one of their most important earthly examples and that I often fall shamefully short ... so I pray for wisdom and faithfulness to not only "talk the (girl) talk" but also "walk the walk" all the days of my life!
These are uncharted waters for me as a mom and often they make me a little nervous. But a really good, "meaty" conversation with my girls is almost always followed by a sense of contentment. Not a happy-go-lucky sort of contentment; but rather a satisfied sort of contentment that we've taken another baby step in the right direction towards laying the groundwork for good values and right choices now and in the future.
A few weeks ago, I decided to introduce the girls to a worn book from my childhood, entitled "How You Became You." As I remember it, this book was given to me by my parents at the appropriate age (and at the same time my sisters received their own age-appropriate books of a similar nature) with the instructions: Read this and get back to us if you have any questions.
I don't remember asking any questions. Intimate issues were just not something we freely discussed in our family, and I imagine that was true for many families likes ours 20+ years ago. But innocence is not always bliss, and in this day and age the reality is even harsher and "more in your face" than ever before. I feel a deep responsibility to somehow guard my little girls' hearts while at the same time I must educate them with the right information before they absorb the confused and perverted messages all around them.
And when I say "all around them," I am not speaking metaphorically.
In our city, we daily see billboards of an explicit nature. Soon after our arrival, just blocks from home and on our regular route to school, a billboard was hung that created much discussion with the kids in the car. It was an enormous close-up of a woman's backside, in cut-off shorts that would have made Daisy Duke blush and left nothing to the imagination. Our answers to their questions ran the gamut from humorous ("Oh, isn't that sad? She doesn't have enough money to buy shorts that fit her!") to instructive ("Just don't look at that, honey. It's not a good picture.") to very annoyed ("I can't believe that is still up there! I wish we could just spray paint some clothes on that woman.") Finally the offending picture was removed, only to be replaced a few blocks away by a billboard showing a gigantic (as in very tall) woman towering over the cityscape and wearing only see-through black undergarments.
So you see what I mean. Besides the billboards, there are the couples making out at bus stops and on the beaches and in the parks; the kids smoking dope in broad daylight; the immodest dress; and the endless beat and suggestive lyrics of reggaeton music pounding at every social function - from school events to 7-year old birthday parties with seemingly no conscience of how inappropriate it is for the children (and adults, for that matter) hearing it.
I am so thankful that up to this point the girls have felt the freedom to talk to me about these issues. It's something I have to plan for and encourage, however; it doesn't simply happen. A new window of "girl time" has been opened for us recently with Owen's soccer class on Saturday mornings. Pedro has a weekly meeting at the same time, so the girls and I get to use that hour and half for ourselves. Last week, we walked downtown and so many questions and comments spilled from the two of them that I could hardly keep up! For instance, from Eva: "Why do some people think we came from monkeys, Mom? We saw a movie in school and the monkey kept getting bigger and bigger until it became a person!" and from Isabel: "Why doesn't that lady mind that her skin is showing so much? She's not very modest!" and from both: "Mom, come look! There's someone sleeping over there! Why is he sleeping on the ground? Doesn't he have a bed?"
I love this "girl talk" and hope that the questions keep coming for many years, though I know I'll feel more and more inadequate to the task. My greatest desire for my girls is that they will become strong, godly women in love with their Savior and His will for their lives. I know that I am one of their most important earthly examples and that I often fall shamefully short ... so I pray for wisdom and faithfulness to not only "talk the (girl) talk" but also "walk the walk" all the days of my life!
1 comment:
You're all my girls. Keep up the good work, Steph, by staying humble and relying on God's wisdom. Praying for all. Your task is noble, honorable, and priceless. I love being a mom! you do too! Loving all my girls, Mom
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