As I write this I am still the blissful Mom of a tween and teenager. However, at exactly 6:15 AM, September 16th 2012, I will be the mother of two teenagers. Not just any teenagers but two teenage daughters. I am not really sure how I feel about this. On one hand I am grateful to start the uphill climb of getting Avery through the teenage years and on the other hand I want to grab time and make it stop. As of right now there is enough estrogen in this house to start a small war. I already have one teenager that is going through all the drama of finding herself, boys, high school, etc. The thought of having two makes my head hurt. I want to stop this ride and get off. It doesn’t help Avery is my baby, my last child, my last milestones. She has always been my miracle baby. At five years old she died, literally and by a miracle she was brought back to me. I have always tried to protect her, spoil her, and even in my own way keep her that innocent child. It is almost as if I feel when she turns a teenager those things will go away. It is also hard to comprehend that in 5 years I will have an empty nest. This is the start of it. In a couple years she will be in high school, after that driving, first date, first dance, prom, graduation, and then college. What will I do then? I joke a lot that I am going to jet set around the world but that is just a joke. What am I going to do when my nest is empty?
Regardless I am proud of my Avery. It is hard to believe that she is the same child I wrote this post about 3 years ago:
This may be a long post but I sincerely hope that you will read this post in its entirety. Hopefully you will look past the mediocre parenting and find the humor in the situation. It is my hope that maybe you will read this and think of a situation with your own child and no longer feel stupid.
I really try hard not to build my kids up to be something they are not. I guarantee you that as soon as you do that they will get around that person and embarrass you immensely. I didn’t lie when I said my older daughter doesn’t give me much trouble. With that aside her sister, my 10 year old, makes up for that. Before I get to the situation at hand let me tell you about a 10 year old I will call Diva. She has no problem telling you what is what. With me and her it is a battle of wills. She is the child that makes me walk, no run, to my mother and apologize for everything I have ever done to her. This kid is a Diva. She loves clothes and is a fashionista all the way. She has every fashion game ever created and goes through sketch books like they are water drawing new designs. This kid has a closet most adults would die for and I sincerely believe she may be the only 10 year old that has 23 pairs of shoes. Thank god for Wal Mart’s $10.00 shoes. That closet was the source of the situation before school this morning. So sit back and read about how I found out I was dumber then a 10 year old.
Last night I reached into the closet and picked out an outfit for Diva. It was one that I had picked out for her when we went shopping. You know the kind that all mothers love on their daughters. It had bows, was pink and had Disney princesses on it. Diva woke up this morning in a bad mood. I am not talking about the bad mood that involves being grouchy. No, Diva was in a hellfire and brimstone bad mood. She had a sore throat and a head ache. I took her temperature and deemed that she was well enough for school. That started the first phase of Operation Make Mommy Look Stupid. She went through all the usual phases” You’re so mean” “You are a living nightmare “I am going to find me a new Mommy” I just was not in the mood this morning so I did what every loving mother would do. I bribed her with a Halloween cupcake. I told her when I took the “I don’t know” child out to the bus she could eat it. All was well until she eyed her outfit for today. “I am not wearing that” to which I replied oh yes you are. “That is a baby outfit, I am not wearing it” Yes you are and that is final. She didn’t say anymore so I walked Ms. I Don’t Know out to the bus stop feeling quite smug that I had won two battles this morning.
I get Ms. I Don’t Know on the bus and go back into the house and Diva say’s “I can’t wear my outfit” Feeling very frustrated I said “Yes you can. Wont and can’t are two totally different things. “No mommy I can’t wear that outfit it has stains” I knew that wasn’t possible I had washed it and hung it up. So I walk over to the outfit, bent on showing her how wrong she was. I picked it up, turned it over, and was in shock. On the back of the legs were huge streaks of orange icing. You guessed it my little diva had taken her cupcake and soiled the outfit. I know what you are thinking because it was the first thought I had. Send her to school in it anyway. I would have but I started thinking about teachers and the whispers of “Doesn’t her mother care about what she wears”. As I looked at my innocent angel who honestly believed I was born yesterday, I knew she had won. She had proven that I was dumber then a 10 year old. She knew there was no way I would send her to school looking like that. Did I yell? Nope. Did I ground her? Nope. I picked out another outfit, dressed her, and took her to the bus stop. Sometimes you have to pick your battles and quite honestly this one to me wasn’t big enough to get into a screaming match about. The only thing I said was “The next time you pull a trick like that I will take every outfit you own and give them away” She knew I meant it and it was enough to scare her into thinking twice. However, I am not going to take any chances. I just hope I don’t look to stupid carrying Diva’s outfit for the day out to the bus stop. If my older child asks why I am doing that I will just politely say “Ummm… I don’t know”.
Does she still test my limits? Absolutely. Does she still make me want to scream bloody murder? You know it. Do I have to pick my battles still? Every single day. But when I look back at how much she has grown and matured over the years it makes me proud. Things will never be perfect and I don’t want them to be. I want her to be her, I want to be the Mom I am no matter what. Most of all I want her to know that I will never turn my back on her. No matter how much she hurts me or no matter what she does in life. She will always be my little girl and as long as there is breath in my body I will be there for her. I was trusted with this beautiful human being and I will do my best to do what is right by her.
I just hope I live long enough to do that because after all I am now the Mom to two teenage daughters. That right there is one of the most dangerous professions in the world.
Till We Dish Again,