When I started Proud Mommy Moments, way back in May 2011, I wanted more than anything, for us as parents to be able to find a MOMENT (in the middle of all the chaos that is raising our children) and not only be proud of our children but be proud of ourselves too.
I also dreamed that people would be clamoring to be part of this series.
Nothing make ME HAPPIER than having someone tell me that they’d love to be part of my VILLAGE.
So there I was at Bloggy Boot Camp in Philadelphia, mildly minding my own business and telling dirty jokes when I met the proud mommy of the day.
The week after she made a dream of mine come true.
She emailed me and asked to share a PROUD MOMMY MOMENT.
She wanted to be a part of this village and I just smiled because I was lost for words. I didn’t know how to tell her that I would be honored to just share the same air with her, so if she wanted to write and share it here…it was a done deal girlfriend.
Arenbya is awesome.
She is beautiful, smart, snarky, honest and a powerful woman.
Her writing is funny, poignant, like a hammer hitting a nail..it affects you.
I mean how can you not love a woman who has a tagline that reads:” I laugh to keep from killing“?
That is a woman I want in my corner for sure.
(mostly bccause my 4 yr olds just gave up the NUKS with very little shame from me about it)
So, should I tell you about how she made me laugh at BlogHer with her LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER Open Mic choice?
Or maybe how she made me cry at BlogHer with this?
She was chosen as a VOICE OF THE YEAR & she was brilliant.
Or should I just tell you that being able to share a little bit of time with her at a party on Saturday night made my stomach hurt from laughing so much. She and I both love shoes, and that’s all I’m saying about that. 
I just adore her. TRULY.
So I welcome her to this space, to share a story that I can relate to on so many levels.
I give you Arnebya (you’re welcome)
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Growing up, my mother never discussed the changes in my body or offered sex education outside of “I’m not raising any more babies” and “Hickeys give you neck cancer.” Seventh grade sex ed class scarred me by depicting what herpes could do. I knew what a period was but mine wouldn’t come until the following year — eighth grade. I was 14.
Things have changed. My oldest daughter’s period started when she was 10. Luckily it then gave her a six month “get ready, I’ll be back”reprieve. It’s shown up like clockwork each month since. I started talking to her early, when she began showing signs of breast development at 7. I was determined that she would not be like me, believing that looking at a penis would cause blindness or crying like Carrie in the shower with her first period thinking she was dying.
Sometimes, I am not nice to my children. I get tired, frustrated, caught up with laundry, grocery shopping, and why won’t this ring get out of the toilet? One night I was so tired I declined every offer to play cards, read, talk, or watch tv. I knew they were disappointed, but I went to bed early anyway. At about 1:00 that morning, I woke to the girls’ bathroom light on. My daughter had had an accident on her sheets.
She was asleep on her back and the sanitary napkin she was wearing wasn’t long enough. I don’t even think I’d told her this was a possibility, perfect mother that I am. Distraught, she was trying to figure out what to do without waking me. Oh, how this broke my heart. I knew she was trying not to wake me because she knew I was tired.
Moreover, she thought I’d yell at her for messing up the sheets.
What the hell kind of message have I been sending with my anger, my frustration at ordinary life with seemingly never ending dishes, that she thought I’d get mad about bed linens? (Worse, if I’m fully honest, when I woke and saw that light on, my first emotion was anger instead of concern).
I helped her change the sheets, stayed in the bathroom as she showered, gave her fresh underwear. We walked to the washing machine together and she confided in me that as much as she hates having to deal with her period each month, she is grateful about one aspect of it: it changes me. To her, each month she gets the understanding, more patient me. Each month she gets the pampering, coddling me, the warm bath running, hot water bottle refilling, Advil and hot tea pushing me. To be honest, I hadn’t noticed that I changed each month, but once I thought about it, I saw it too, and I knew why. I had horrible cramps, the kind that made me miss school. If there’s something I know about, it’s a horrible period.
I did not want her to experience that alone like I did.
I promised her that she didn’t need to have her period for me to be nicer to her. I promised her that I would try to leave work at work and not let it affect how I treated them when I got home. Yes, I was still tired. Yes, it was late. But, I took her by the hand and led her downstairs because one game of late night Uno never hurt anyone.
After reading this, I’m surprised you’re still here, instead of running over to her blog to read her amazing words.
Yet, if you are, still here…can we agree that’s she amazing? That she’s honest and true and wonderful?
I got my period at 10 on the 4th of July, B cups and C cups followed very closely after and it’s been a woman’s world for me since.
I get this, I felt every word.
Thank you Arenbya, for sharing it here , I think you’re an amazing mom.
Here is Where you can find her:
her blog: What Now and Why
her Facebook page: What Now and Why (give it some LIKES people)
Follow her on Twitter, you will laugh your ass off: whatnowandwhy
Arnebya, I am so honored to have you here today.
Now when I can see your sweet smile again? My shoes are ready.
Arnebya, sometimes our children teach us so much, yes? Your daughter is wise, but of course she has a good teacher in you. Loved your story!
Thanks, Alison. I agree; they do teach us. One of the things the toddler taught me just today was how not to do an Academy award-worthy wall slide outside of his classroom as he wailed on the other side.
Thank you so much for having me here today, Kir! Your words make me feel all tingly inside (as I also wonder who the hell you’re talking about). All I know is I CANNOT, WILL NOT wait until 2013 to see you again.
I agree, I’ll be stalking you until you invite me down.
I love having you here and YOU ARE ALL OF THESE Things…and more. So much MORE. xo
I’ve known Arnebya for years and she’s always been awesome!
Her writing is stellar and often makes me laugh and sometimes cry! I just love her!
Arnebya IS awesome! I love her honesty. Even when she’s talking about something serious, her humor shines through–I had to laugh about “hickeys give you neck cancer.”
I got my period at age 11. This is a good reminder that I need to have “the talk” with my older daughter.
That was beautiful, and beautifully written!
I’m still waiting to have my first period.
Oh t, that was just the small giggle I needed.
*snort*
wow, this stopped me and choked me up quite a bit. my daughter is younger (and oh god, puberty at ten? not ready at all) but i see myself in your descriptions of yourself as sometimes not-nice. thank you for sharing, for being real. like, you’ve provided a public service here. and also, it’s quite obvious what a loving mom you are. in case you were wondering.
Thank you, Marian. And yes, at 10. My other daughter is 9 now and hopefully a little slower on the body change uptake than her sister. And yup, sometimes I do wonder, so thank you again.
What a great glimpse of her and her heart. Thank you for the introduction.
Hi, Kim; nice to meet you!
This is stunning. And honest. And – like you – I try really hard to parent better than I was parented. I try. But sometimes I suck. These days are usually followed by days where I’m awesome.
Like you were that night.
We do our best, right?
We do do our best, Renee. And yes, oftentimes the day after the day I’ve been more yelly than usual is usually awesome. Maybe it takes the bad days to help make the good days even better. What I really hope, though, is that my kids remember the good days more than the bad ones.
I’m pretty sure we all love Arnebya.
I’m so worried about going through this with my daughter. At least now I know who I can run to when it happens.
Thank you, Jennifer; and you’ll be fine! When the time comes with Cady you’ll know what to say, what to do, or you’ll just wing it. I will tout this book until the cows come home (where did the cows go and how do we know the cows are going to return? WHAT IF SOMEONE STOLE THE COWS?): The Care and Keeping of You. It’s an American Girl series which is borderline cult-like to me, but the book is great and wonderful discussion starter.
This story – I can’t find the right word but it captured me. Makes me think about how my daughter (and everyone around me) interprets the way I act towards them. Thank you for being so honest and sharing this.
Thanks, Tricia. I have to admit I tried to weasel out of this being the proud mommy post. I didn’t think it conveyed what I wanted/needed it to. I’m glad I was wrong.
Arnebya, You just brought what I am trying to get my girls ready for into reality. I have been talking with my girls about getting their periods since Ash was 9 and Bean was 7. I have always told that babies aren’t in a belly that they are in a uterus and that is why girls have the babies and men don’t. But to hear how your daughter recognizes the little things like the tea and warm baths…it melted my heart because that is what being a good mom to a daughter is all about. It is exactly what I want for me and my girls.
Loved seeing you here!! Beautiful words from a beautiful woman!!
Thank you so much, Kristen. I don’t know what happened with my mother, why she didn’t explain this to me, why I was unprepared, and she was aloof. And because I had such a terrible early period experience, I’ve always known I had to tell my girls soon what to expect so they’d be prepared and know what was happening. She and I have the best conversations when her cycle starts each month. Now if I can just figure out how to keep them from syncing (even though it’s heading that way; there’s like a 3 day difference right now and I am so not sharing my frosting).
Thank you so much for sharing her story here. I was never told about anything either except what I learned in school. Thank you for the reminder to remember what it was like and to change the things we didn’t like about our experiences. I am going to add this to the notes I have as reminders of things I want to do or not do when raising my children.
Children are so wonderful: I feel like they forgive anything if they see you love them.
She sees you love her.
(Of all your wonderful posts, A, this one: the truth in it, is something every woman — if she’s honest — will nod yes to.)