"Horror Moans"

It was Saturday a.m. and we were all cleaning the house. 
Emilie was on dusting duty when I discovered her in tears.  Was it the Pine Sol that had brought on the tears?  It couldn't be.  Of all three kids Emilie actually enjoys cleaning. The old saying "the way to my heart is through my stomach the vacuum cleaner" applies to both Emilie and I.
So why the tears?
"Emilie, why are you crying?"
She sobs.
Looks at me.
Then says the words I understand
oh.
so.
well...
"I'm just hormonal."

In that moment I ached for her; she's 11 for crying out loud.
She's barely begun to swing on the estrogen/progesterone/testosterone pendulum!
However,  one of us had to remain calm. Steady. SANE!!
This wasn't time for me to hop on the "woe is me" hormonal pendulum with her.
I had to think fast.
I needed to offer her a way out from being another casualty on this amusement-of-nobody hormonal ride. 
'Think Denise! Think....
CHOCOLATE!'

I immediately lead her to my stash of Giradelli chocolate chips.
"Take a few" I said.
She took 3.
"No Emilie, 3 won't even take the edge off.  You must take half a handful, no more no less."
She looked at me puzzled.





"Listen closely Grasshopper, you must be wise with your chocolate consumption."
As she munched on her chocolate pieces and the attack of the hormones were subsiding I continued...
"Emilieson, a half a handful will take the edge off and make you feel giddy,
but CAUTION!
Do not.
Under any circumstances.
Ever...
consume a whole handful of chocolate!"
She looked at me confused as the chocolaty sweetness eased her hormone induced sadness.
I imparted my wisdom from too many years of experience.
"Emilie, a whole handful of chocolate is deceptive.  You think you will feel good, but you will cross over to the hormonal dark side and feel worse than you did before!"
 You'll think 'I shouldn't have,' feel chocolate bloated (which is the most terrorizing kind of bloated), and more hormonal than you did before!"
Emilie looked at me, and shook her head in understanding (though she probably tuned me out some where between "a half a handful and Grasshopper," struck by the miracle that I was actually sharing my chocolate stash with her rather than taking in my great words/years of hormonal wisdom).

Ahhhh, time will tell. In the meantime it's time to stock up on CHOCOLATE!

Later that evening we girls were curled up on the couch together, watching some teeny-bopper show off Net-Flix when Emilie brought up the hormone saga from earlier that day.  Josie and I both thought we heard Emilie say, "horror moans."  We busted up laughing right there in the middle of  Sonny With A Chance..."baahahahaha horror moans!"  "Horror Moans, bahahahhaha" we wailed some more.

(Makes you wonder if the word hormones actually originated from "horror moans."
Horror: something horrible; strong fear, dread, or dislike.  Moan: a long low sound indicating pain or grief... I'm just say'n).


Turns out a good dose of laughter and a half a handful of chocolate is the perfect prescription for dealing with "horror moans!" 
   

For those of you with girls entering this wonderful dreaded season of life,  I highly recommend American Girl's Care & Keeping of You   which carefully leads and equips young girls who are maturing (totally beats being corralled in the gymnasium with sixty 5th grade girls to watch "the movie," followed  by receiving the brown paper bag filled with unmentionables that the 5th grade boys pester you about for the remainder of the school day.  Oh! the trama). 





For those of you who curl up in a ball in your closet and rock yourselves while  uncontrollable tears pour from the core of your mommy heart (this was me for  3 years at just the mention of my kids maturing or discussion of having "the talk") I recommend you start reading this book.