Armed with books covertly checked out from the library and a copy of Our Bodies Ourselves for Teens, I pulled out my knitting, patted my full belly and told the Teen we had to talk.
Immediately she was on the defensive, telling me that I ALWAYS need to talk to her. As suspected, the Mister ran like a gazelle in a nature film.
I ignored the huffs and puffs, started knitting and told her why I wanted to have a chat. I went into the details: her body is her own, she’s a young lady, etc etc.
The Teen got an immediate attitude. “Mommy, I’m always home. When would I do THAT?!”.
In a nutshell: I didn’t need any wine, the Teen was open to what I had to say, and I didn’t hyperventolate.
It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be, but I am happy as that I can play like a gazelle when the Boy needs to have the TALK.