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The Buck Stops Here

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(That was then)

I’ve shared a lot about my daughter on this blog:

Ladies and gentlemen:

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

Exhibit C

Exhibit D

Exhibit E

Heck, I could go through the entire alphabet twice with the number of anecdotes I’ve posted detailing the trials and tribulations of raising a child in the 21st century.

My precious peanut was barely two years old when I started writing here.

She’s seven now… going on 17.

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(This is now)

I’ve rarely censored myself while serving up slices of our suburban life.

I didn’t really need to. After all, I never saw the harm in letting the world know how crazy funny, smart and scrumdelicious she is.

However, it seems the winds of change are blowing in our direction.

The other day I stopped typing mid-way through a blog describing in vivid detail the moment when I decided to introduce my second grader to the wonderful world of deodorant.

TMI, I thought, and I stopped typing.

To tell you the truth, my kid would have likely cared less if I shared her tale of two body odors, but you know, pre-tweens are fickle, and she could turn on me in a couple of years, so I erred on the side of caution.

Which is more than I can say for other Mommy bloggers, who have been flooding cyberspace with personal anecdotes about their daughter’s first visit from Aunt Flo, and then seguing into the hottest (and by hottest, I mean sickest) new trend in girly get-togethers: Menarche parties.

Some crazy cat started a company called Menarche Parties R’ Us, which is designed to help moms and dads (and by dads I mean moms): “Create a life time of memories for your daughter by hosting a menarche party for her. A menarche party can make this time easier and more meaningful for both the young lady beginning menstruation and her parents.”

The site features an “affordable party pack,” which includes a Pin the Ovaries game, Puberty Marshmallow game, Menstrual Trivia game, and Positively Puberty game, because you know, when you see blood coming out of your private parts it makes you want to par-tay.

Trust me; there is no way on Earth that I will be celebrating my daughter’s period with red-themed party supplies, or with a blog detailing her reaction to red-colored bodily fluid staining her underwear.

The buck stops here.

I just wish it had for other bloggers before they started chatting up ways to spice up their daughters’ Private Days Feminine Disposal party bags.

This entry was posted in Viewpoints by Michele Cheplic. Bookmark the permalink.

About Michele Cheplic

Michele Cheplic was born and raised in Hilo, Hawaii, but now lives in Wisconsin. Michele graduated from the University of Wisconsin-Madison with a degree in Journalism. She spent the next ten years as a television anchor and reporter at various stations throughout the country (from the CBS affiliate in Honolulu to the NBC affiliate in Green Bay). She has won numerous honors including an Emmy Award and multiple Edward R. Murrow awards honoring outstanding achievements in broadcast journalism. In addition, she has received awards from the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association for her reports on air travel and the Wisconsin Education Association Council for her stories on education. Michele has since left television to concentrate on being a mom and freelance writer.