So I’ve been saving this for a rainy day, and boy oh boy is it a good one. I’m stuck in our tent trailer, in Oregon, in the pouring rain. Do not even get me started…
Anyway, the great and powerful Kelly DeBie of DeBie Hive sent this, oh, in winter. But you guys know how well organized I am. At least in my brain. But enough about that nightmare without end. I LOVE this story, and I keep hoping someday I’ll be like Kelly when I grow up.
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At this exact moment in time, my daughters love me.
That could change at any second though. I’ve learned this the hard way in the last few weeks.
My oldest daughter has always had a flair for the dramatic, and started yelling at her younger sister a while back. She ends a great many arguments with, “You don’t know my life,” before she rolls her eyes all the way in the back of her head, flips her hair and walks away.
A while ago, she began accusing me of ruining her life over things like playdates and birthday parties. The end of days seem to be always upon us, mostly at my hands of course. She seems wholly convinced that I go out of my way to mess up her plans.
In reality, we’re just collectively too busy and too big of a family to bend at the will of any one person very often.
Hell, I can’t even remember the last time I got to demand anything about what we do…but I digress.
Anyhow, the little sister has started to adopt some of the language of the older one. Like she tends to do with everything, she takes a little then runs with it.
The little one is the family over-reactor.
A few weekends ago, she lost the privilege of attending a friend’s birthday party after she was repeatedly caught lying about her room being clean. After a few chances to fix the situation and choose to be honest, she instead decided to leave it a mess and keep trying to cover it up. It didn’t work. It didn’t work even when I threatened her with losing privileges if she lied again.
She spent a few hours being pissed off at the world, angry at me for following through, pouting and crying off and on. Eventually, though,she got her room clean and apologized.
We were good for a few days, until the world ended again this past week.
She came home from school and ordered me to plan a playdate for her. I told her that it was already late, it was cold and windy, the weekend would be nicer, she had homework and that it wasn’t happening right at this exact moment. All the explanations in the world aren’t ever enough for this one, and she thinks that every decision I ever make is a jumping off point for negotiations.
Not the case, sweetheart.
I held my ground, told her no, and reminded her that if she didn’t treat me with respect, she’d be in trouble again. That’s about when her head spun around, horns spouted, her voice changed to the deep throaty one and she hurled the words at me.
I hate you.
It was a first. And it stung. A lot.
I knew it was coming, but it still hurts. I took a deep breath and gulped it down, sent her to her room. Go hate me there, if you must.
She’s not even 8 yet.
Puberty might just kill me with these girls.
I’m pretty sure that I’ll be called the worst mom ever more than a few times in the years to come, just like I’m sure they’ll hate me again many times.
I can live with it.
Besides, there’s a trophy.
By DeBie Hive
Tammy Soong is a writer, wife, and mom from Reno, Nevada. She takes an absurd amount of pain medication, but not enough to have actually named her children "Newt" and "Elfie." She spends most days stressing out over clutter, writing stuff for this place, and working on podcasts with her gal pals, the Blogging Betties.
girlfriend, i promise you, you will survive puberty, but barely. My 17 year old is very much like both of your girls put together and has been since she was 7. You bedroom cleaning story? very familiar around here. the dramatics don’t end, they get smarter. My wonderful teen has learned to google symptoms and then pull them off as a way to avoid chores. And when i question why she’s two hours late getting home from school and why she couldn’t call, I’m the hated worst mom ever and she’s sick of this life I put her through. I feel you sistah. My only advice is, pick your battles and let what you can go for the sake of your sanity.
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oh my god – I have three girls, ages 10, 8 and 8. It is already starting. So hard to to fall in the trap and be sarcastic back. So hard. I do not always succeed. I’ve just been keeping the WWM’s stories from Tammy. I’ll have to write some of them down….I will say this. My husband and I have recently separated. We are splitting the week – I have 4 nights, he has 3 and back and forth. When I got to my 3rd night with the three girls, I said to myself, there is no way I could do a week on week off schedule without someone ending up dead. After 4 nights I will be ready. Of course, the 4th night, they were all angels. That is how children survive. By learning to retract their horns.
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I think you are living my double life! My recently turned 6 year old through the biggest tantrum in the store telling me she was not leaving until I bought her a dress…she also mentioned she wanted a new mom…she has been folding laundry for a few days and beginning to repent and earning privileges back. she got some wide eyed attention from kiddos in the store. Of course the older sister thought she was the “cat’s meow’ at that moment because she realized just how far her sister had overstepped…ahh, parenting 🙂
My oldest daughter (12) is just now starting to hit that phase where she wants what she want WHEN she wants it… Of course, she knows that I’m not going to give in to every single whim/wish/desire, but she’s trying.
The sad part is that, so far, she’s been an angel, my saving grace in a world full of insanity, and has had nothing but straight A’s in school up to this point.
If what “they” say is true about your kids giving you tenfold the shit you gave your parents, then I’m in BIG trouble, and should probably have the police and fire department on speed dial.
911 just may become my new best friend in the next few years…
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Oh, the “I hate you.” And the “WORST MOM EVERRRRRR!”
I’ve heard both in various situations, but only from one of my children.
The other one is shiftier. She mumbles under her breath and tells herself that I am an idiot.
Which is fine. I claimed the worst mom prize back when I took my 18-month-old on the spider ride at an amusement park. Or was it when I introduced them at 4 and 2 to (unintentional horror movie) The Dark Crystal?
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Boys are soooooooooo much easier!! LOL LOL LOL