Until then, I am thankful for the adult medication that is dulling the edges of tween angst. I am talking of course about earplugs, vodka & locked doors.
My Sofia has apparently fallen victim to the tween epidemic. In case your household isn't as lucky as mine, here are some of the warning signs to look for:
They must stomp everywhere they go.
Their eyes are in a constant rolling motion.
They develop cataracts, which makes it impossible to see that other parents do, indeed, inflict their children with chores too.
Their shoulders are in a perpetual slump.
They are prone to moments of insanity whereby they actually believe they can challenge you on everything.
When they lose these challenges, they immediately call foul and revert to toddler temper tantrums.
Nothing you do is good enough.
Their lives are harder than you could ever imagine.
In other words, they could win an Academy Award for Best Actor/Actress in a Dramedy series.
I spend most moments with my eldest child vascillating between three things
exasperation
uncontrollable laughter
the kind of anger where you need at least 400 feet, a concrete barrier, and a squad of riot police between the two of you
Now, I expected drama. I expected battles. I even expected to want to rip my hair out. I just didn't expect it so soon. I was caught completely off-guard by her sudden immersion into the craziness that is growing girls.
I love Sofia. I adore Sofia. She was/is/always will be my first real love. But, if she doesn't knock it off, I'm going to have to choose which direction I'm heading.
The mental institution or the morgue?
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