I have yet to have the talk with my daughter. I know I should- I mean every parent should, but for some reason, I am terrified by the idea of it. What am I going to say? I have no idea. I just now I don’t want to do it.

Should I use a clinical approach? Should I give her all the gory details like she was in a doctor’s office? Should I be sure to not have any expression, be straightforward and not allow for giggling about my first boyfriend? That way she will know I’m serious, if don’t allow any expression. I guess I could let our family doctor talk to her for me if I was going to try a gift approach.

My friend talked to her teenage daughter by scaring her. I don’t know how effective that is going to end up being. Knowing her mom, the poor girl is probably scared to even look at a boy, never mind kiss one. Maybe that’s not a bad idea. I mean, there are a lot of diseases out there; it might be nice to be sure she won’t have to worry about them.

But no, knowing my daughter, telling her not to look at a boy is just the same as telling her to move in with him. I am convinced that she does stuff just to spite me. Why I have no idea. I think she is just trying to drive me insane so she can have my makeup collection. Time to get serious! :)

I think I’ll put of that talk another day.

Learning about QuickBooks. Microsoft Excel, too.

I like bookkeeping even though it can be hard but this training (QuickBooks course) was… well, I thought it was easy to learn from.

I heard about a QuickBooks courseware provider and ordered it for work. Since I had already gotten their Microsoft Excel courses and used that for training I was proficient so I didn’t really want to bother with the the other QuickBooks seminar provider.

where did the time go

My daughter asked me if she could wear makeup. When I asked her why she said she wanted to because all of the other girls were doing it. I told her she wasn’t going to use makeup simply because all of the other girls were, but stopped halfway through my sentence. I can’t stand the thought of sounding anything like my mother.

So I took a deep breath and tried again, this time avoiding the parental argument of ‘just because your friends do it doesn’t mean you need to.’

Breathing deeply and practicing patience, I asked my daughter what type of makeup she wanted to have. She perked up, obviously excited that I was considering the idea. I was hoping she’d say something like lip gloss or blush.

Nope, I wasn’t that lucky. She replied that all of her friends wore eye makeup.

Absolutely not.

My daughter was not going to run around with bedroom eyes.

Saddened that I had to deliver the bad news, I carefully told her no. She said okay, dropped her head and sulked off to her room. I know I was right. I don’t care how bad I feel.