My father-in-law just gave me a booklet from 1957 "Published for mothers by Personal Products Corporation...makers of Modess and Teen-Age by Modess." On the back it says "lithographed in the U.S.A." I LOVE IT!! And I love him for thinking of me and Miss M and recognizing that "No doubt about it, these are pretty good days to be a mother or a daughter." He handed it to me and said that he thought it was probably information I already knew but that this might help me talk to Miss M about growing up. The man is 83. Is that not the cutest thing ever?
The book is a fun read. I liked the part about what to do if your daughter seems to be ready for information but she is not asking questions (that has NEVER been a problem at our house). The makers of Modess and Teen-Age by Modess recommend dropping little hints (keep it casual) such as:
Leaving out my box of Modess where they can be seen.
Asking her to remind me to buy toothpaste and Modess sanitary napkins at the store.
Mention that the reason I am not swimming in the lake is that it is the first day of my monthly period. (I grew up watching Cathy Rigby on TV doing gymnastics in a white leotard during her period so the whole not swimming during my time thing cracks me up!)
An excellent way to begin the conversation is by giving her a box of Teen-Age by Modess.
Which only makes me think of other clever ways to work in some product placement:
Put some in a little basket at the dinner table so I can ask her to please pass the Modess.
When I fold the laundry I can discreetly line all of her undergarments for her with Teen-Age by Modess.
We could have a craft day and decoupage Modess dispensers for the bathrooms.
I could tuck Modess sanitary napkins in all of her pockets so she is always prepared.
It reminded me of when my big Sis and my friend Amy's big Sis were going through some changes. Amy and I took one of every kind of sanitary item we could find in our houses and put them to the test. We cut them all in half, made blue water with food coloring, and dipped everything in them to see how much liquid they could hold. We even dipped in a piece of sidewalk chalk and snapped it in half like the Colgate commercial. My, how we are colored by advertisements.
The best part of the whole book is the illustrations. Everyone looks seriously depressed.
And since we are our daughter's best teacher, keep in mind that "it is no coincidence that mothers who complain about menstrual pain often have daughters who develop pain too. Mothers too tired to move during their periods have daughters following the same patterns. And mothers who remain cheerful and calm usually find that their daughters do, too."
I knew it! Everything wrong with me IS my mother's fault. But wait...that means...Miss M...
I'll start dropping dollars in the therapy jar tomorrow.