She’s starting to bug out in a very hormonal, miserable way. Alex is losing his damn mind and Richard could put Mufasa to shame with all the roaring.
I’m stuck on the fence... part of me keeps trying to speak to her on a deep and utterly female level and the other part wants to snatch her bald. At times, like last night, I can see in her eyes she understands what I’m saying and agrees change would be great for all of us, but then it goes away.
As I tucked her in last night, I stopped for a minute to put extra kisses on her beautiful face... sure that my talk with her had finally made an impact and we could all start breathing a little easier. Imagine my surprise to find the child that woke up this morning seems to have erased any memory of last night’s (or the other three) deep conversation about how to act like a normal human being.
When I told Richard that she practically refused to kiss me goodbye today as I watched the same dirty looks and stomping feet come roaring back – he suggested next time she resists me so forcefully, I knock her to the ground in my best King Kong Bundy body splash. This method, although highly tempting, would only deflate a lung while making her infinitely more pissed.
My dawning fear is that I am so unprepared for this. I know the trouble her 9 year old self is causing won’t compare to what her teenage self will cause... but still. For some reason I always felt confident that since I was such a total asshole to my parents, I’d have my kids nailed. Not true, Emma is so completely different from me – she’s stronger, she’s smarter, she’s meaner and she’s so much more sure of herself than I could EVER be. Most of the time she just leaves me stunned with her strength and her stubborn will. Richard swears I need to get a handle on this or she’s going to mark me for a sucker.
How have I gotten started on being Super Mom? Why I've spent my day crying of course.
More than anything, I find myself mourning my sassy baby girl who used to put her pom-pom’s in her chonies and shake her butt as hard as she could just so I would laugh.
The curse, it's amazing how well it works. I do feel you pain though.
Posted by: grandpa | November 19, 2004 at 09:35 AM