29 Jul The Curse of Daughters
May you grow up and have a daughter who is as horrible as you! Ha ha ha!
“She makes me so mad that I just want to tear her face into little bitty pieces like a tissue.” A while back, this is what a dear friend said to me about her teenage daughter, as she vented her frustrations with a moody, frustrating child. At the time, I was somewhat taken aback by the violent undertones in her email.
Well. Now, not only do I know exactly what she meant, I am getting so riled up by my own teenage daughter that I “just want to tear her sullen grouchy face into little bitty pieces like a tissue and then flush all those pieces down the toilet never to be put back together, even with the most powerful Horcrux spell ever.”
Does anybody else have a teenage daughter? (or am i the only one in the blogoverse who was having babies when I probably should have been trying to climb up the corporate ladder? Or I could have been stalking Ryan Reynolds before he became too famous to notice me. Or I could have studied ballroom dancing and been that wicked Latin lover dancing girl I always dreamed of becoming. Or a black belt in kung fu, now that would have been a nifty thing to have gotten. I could have gone to the Olympics and kicked butt. Maybe then scored me a movie deal. Then I would have met exciting people like, umm, like Jet Li! Or been best friends with Angelina J. Oh the list of useful things I could have been doing instead of having children at 20!) Back to teenage girls. And their moodiness. Sullen faces.Eye rolling. Deep breathing when asked to do something around the house.(Ungrateful, selfish bratbag.) My daughter has become a very challenging person for me to live with. I need to find new ways to communicate with her, new ways to parent. Ways that don’t involve screaming and ripping out my hair. ( and wanting to rip out hers.) Because I want this daughter and I to be friends. I dont want her to hate me. To count down the milliseconds until she can escape from her mother.
Which is all making me appreciate my mother so much more. Because when I look at this child’s sullen, foot stomping, shoulder shrugging self – I see me. 15 years ago. (Okay, I lie, I see me twenty-five years ago. Dammnit, I’m old.)
So, mum? If you’re sneaking around the internet spying on me, I want you to know – that Im sorry. For being such a “challenging daughter to parent.” And those times you called me “a little shit”? You were probably completely justified. (although i still maintain that calling me a “shameful slut” was totally undeserved and severely scarred my psyche. Requiring many hours of therapy.) But, Im thankful for the friendship that we share now. It gives me hope that me and my daughter can find our way through this sullen grumpy mess. Without too much cursing.
And if any of you have useful advice for those of us trying not to be witches to our daughters? Then by all means, share it here!