I am not ashamed to tell you that I am slightly afaird of them.
When I look at them, I see these spectacular young women who appear rational. Sometimes they start telling me very rational things, then quite suddenly, it all takes a turn and they are calling me "mother," and screaming I don't understand and demanding I buy them more clothes NOW, immediately, because I "don't do anything anyway for them, ever."
I often set them off by saying such horrible things as "good morning" and "what do you want for lunch?" or "dinner's ready."
I should try to do better.
Then again, when I do try to do better, and offer them some new leggings, the new leggings might not have pockets for their cell phones and be "stupid looking." When I offer to help with editing something, they point out that I went to school a long time ago and that I "don't even know how to use modern words." And of course, don't get them started on the subject of chicken. They track our chicken consumption very diligently. And apparently, our chicken levels are very high, so high that I am "obsessed with feeding" them "chicken" and "lazy."
I don't even know what is real, anymore. Maybe I am a chicken-obsessed lazy woman who speaks in old english and picks out stupid looking leggings.
It's a lot.
Sometimes, I get very brave and try to have discussions with them or I try to comfort them when they are hysterical over a missing dance shoe or French class. These are all the wrong things to say and do. They retaliate with very big voices. And, then, inevitably, I reach a point in which I cannot listen to the madness anymore and I try to rationalize with them. After all, look at them, they are my daughters, my besties, my cuties, they love me! They are so poised and wise looking. Surely, they must understand reason.
Of course, they don't understand any reason, because while they look like mature human beings, they are not. If I pinch my eyes just a little bit and squint, I can still see my sweet little girls, who were prone to tantrums over how I cut their grilled cheese.
Friends, teenage girls resemble young adults, but they are really just large, irrational children, ready to freak out at any given moment. The problem is that they also have full (very creative!) vocabularies and they have figured you out, so they can say just the thing to really make you angry.
It's like a whole lot to deal with. And while everyone tells you that teenage girls are "hard" no one prepares you for reliving the terrible 2s and "threeanger" years with a full sized, educated version of your toddler.
It's all a lot. They are really sort of mean to me. I am a bit scared they will read this blog and yell at me; but then again, they yelled at me today for breathing loudly, so it seems to make no difference what I do and I can just take the risk and tell the truth.
Teenage daughters are scary, friends.
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