Let me start by saying that I have no doubt that I will, in fact, survive the teenage years, but at what cost and how many months, dare I say years, of therapy will it take for me to come out on the other side even as half the woman I was going into it. I also have no doubt that I will be the reason my daughter says to me at age 30 that she sat her ass in many-a-therapy sessions for the same teenage years. Of course, I will know that her version of the events that are to take place will be the exact opposite of my version.
I digress, for this day is the day I really begin to question if I am a capable of even making it TO the dreaded teenage years. Girl child will be 11 in a few months. Is she officially a "tween" at this point? I don't have a clue as I don't pay much attention to that as she's been a thorn in my side for at least a good part of a year now (and that's being kind). I sure as hell hope that at this moment she is not considered a "mini me" for if this is truth, I apologize to those around me for I am an asshole.
These are things that are baffling my sleep-deprived, toddler induced craziness in no particular order, and if I could say these things to her without the drama that would surely ensue I would:
1. Girl child, before you speak, would you please think about what it is you are trying to convey because when you start a sentence and stop five damn times trying to spit out what the hell it is you're trying to say, I have shut down and moved onto my next five things I have to do in the next five minutes. I surely have not heard a single thing you said as my brain is screaming "WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WANT" all the while keeping a nodding head as if I'm paying you any kind of attention.
2. When you go to the kitchen to get a drink, get a drink and move on. Don't stand in the fridge, hemming and hawing, close the fridge, go sit back down and wait for my ass to get up and say, "Oh, can you get me some water," and when I look at you like you've got 10 heads don't say, "what" as if you have no clue as to what the hell I'm perplexed about -- which is how lazy one kid can possibly be.
3. Seriously, dear girl child, if I have to look at that downtrodden face for the next six to eight years you will see me running naked across the golf course one morning pulling my hair out and speaking in tongues in the hopes that the white van will quietly pull up next to me and put on that awesome little jacket with the buckles and feed me pills three times a day. It's okay if you don't come visit because I think that the sight of you will cause me to convulse and be put into that special room that has soft walls so I don't hurt myself.
4. Before I do get to the point of the above-stated golf course screaming scenario, would you please, for the love of all that is holy, get out of my ass, please. You know I work at home, and sometimes it is inevitable that I must work while you are home. Yes, dear girl child, my life is more than you. I know, I know how hard that is to comprehend, but I assure you, if you leave me be for 30 minutes, I will emerge from this dark hole I consider my office and tend to your every must-be-now desire. Also, yes, I have my headphones on and yes, I am typing, and yes, you are right, I am completely trying to ignore you, but your breathing on my neck literally is going to be the death of you. I know you are capable of being an independent human being for 30 minutes, and if you don't get out of my ass, you will find yourself adding an extra month onto your therapy sessions in your mid to late 20s.
These are just a few of the things I'm tossing around in my weary mind. There are tons more, but when I think about these few I get a twitch in my left eye. I do hope that this twitch does not become permanent as I realize people already look at me funny while I go about my daily life. I do apologize profusely to those I come into contact with as I know that any interaction with my frazzled mind must leave you dazed for a few minutes, and those are precious moments you cannot get back. Please forgive me if I don't care as I'm working on a few precious years that I will never get back, and as I stare at the mountain before me that leads to the Land of the Teenagers, please just push me forward and run far, far away because these screams of horror are just not becoming of me.
*cheers my friends*
You will make it. With more gray, more wrinkles, prob more cellulite from the oreos dipped in peanut butter that are the ONLY cure for the stress, but you will make it. With an almost 14 year old, I am weary, beaten, and near-defeated but can see the light, and the women hidden down inside that teen who is slowly beginning to emerge as a positive member of society :)
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