Thursday, January 17, 2008

Fuck You Hormones

Anyone who has seen the movie, "Knocked Up", will totally get the title. Oh wait, that makes it sound like I'm leading in to tell everyone I'm pregnant, doesn't it? Am I? Holy Shit.

Nah, I had the plumbing welded closed when the baby was born. I don't want any more surprise, thankyouverymuch! Especially after the last few days with the Queen of Hormones. Is that me, you ask? No, it sure as hell isn't. My daughter, Kelly, can make my PMS look like a day at the park. Now, I totally understand why children don't come with instruction manuals. Its for people like me who would immediately start flipping through until something caught their eye. I'm telling you, if I read the chapter in the imaginary Childrearing for Dummies book on puberty, I would have taken Kelly back for a full refund before the 30 days expired. Or traded her in for the male model.

Those of you with daughters under the age of 3, AVERT YOUR EYES NOW. Do it quickly. This top secret classified information is guaranteed to scar you and scare you.

I have a theory. Puberty in girls begins at birth. Its not really noticable until they begin to speak coherently. Its like a preface of what is to come. However, at that age, they are still so cute that you are lulled by a false sense of security. The mini tantrums, the stubborness, the testing of authority, they are usually attributed to Terrible Twos. That lets us mom's believe there is an end in site. YOU ARE BEING FOOLED! There is no end in site. It is not Terrible Twos, Threes, Ferocious Fours or any other cute name you can come up with. It's puberty. And it only gets worse. Horribly, terribly, scarily worse.

I remember a cute day when my little angel was about 2.5 or 3. I had just finished getting her dressed and fixing her hair when she started wailing. Mildly disturbed, I asked her what was wrong. Her answer? Her hair things didn't match her outfit. I should have run like hell at that point. Run and never looked back. Instead, I found the story mildly amusing. "Awww, isn't it cute that she likes to match?" NO, the correct answer is NO, it isn't cute...its scarey and its your first dose of things to come. If your precious little daughter has done something along these lines - this is your warning. GET OUT.

Now, my cute and darling little girl is almost 13. The last year has been hell. The tears shed for no reason. The attitude dished out. The blatant disregard for rules. The tone of voice when speaking to me. The looks of "Don't close your eyes to go to sleep tonight, Bitch" (ok, that might be on both our sides!) H. E. L. L. Nothing in life can prepare you for this. NOTHING. I don't care if you labored without drugs for 36 hours and delivered a 10 lb baby with a 3rd degree tear up to your poop chute. That's a breeze compared to what's coming.

I know some of you are reading and thinking I'm exaggerating. Let me give you some recent examples:

1. Copious amounts of tears shed because her plate fell on the floor and then full blown sobbing because when she was picking up the destroyed dinner, the knife fell and knocked her glass over. Gotta admit, I laughed which didn't help things.

2. Copious tears shed because her brother laughed when she fell off her chair.

3. Copious tears shed because her hair won't go the way she wants.

4. Copious tears shed because her brother told her she wouldn't be the baby anymore while I was pregnant.

5. Copious tears shed because she got yelled at for spilling hot chocolate in the living room because she didn't think it was her fault even though there aren't supposed to be drinks taken outside the kitchen for just this reason. Apparently, it was Sean's fault because he was throwing Abby's Pooh at her...although when she was telling the story I thought she literally meant Sean was throwing POO at her.

Its a wonder the child doesn't suffer from dehydration.

When she's not crying or wailing or moaning, she's not speaking to me. Literally. I will ask her questions and she will not answer. She won't look at me. She won't even twitch to show she heard me. It makes me want to put her over my knee and paddle her ass.

I know mothers and daughters make it through this. I survived. However, I'm thinking it's only by a thin margin that mothers don't kill their daughters. Maybe that's what materal instinct really is. Lucky Lucky Me, I get to do it all over again. Damn pregnancy hormones that had me longing for another little girl!

For any mothers that have made it through, how did you do it? Did you lock her in her room? Gag her? Drink a lot to get through?

6 comments:

Sasha said...

I totally blinged out the Fan and it looks fab! (Thanks again!) I was going to post a pic today, but I forgot my cord.... tomorrow, I promise. Still considering the Mr. Sasha knowing about the blog thing. Haven't decided.

Anonymous said...

Good to know what I have to look forward to. Twice. Thanks. Really, thanks.

Ms. Skywalker said...

My mom raised four of us chicks. Four. And she wasn't an alcoholic.

I'm struggling, hard, lately.

It breaks my heart in a million pieces--the person that Big A is becoming, because she doesn't like me, and I'm spending an inordinate amount of time wondering how this being that I love so deeply is still the same being that sometimes, honestly, I struggle to love, if that makes sense.

Deb said...

I know this isn't going to make you feel better, but my mom and I once got into an argument when I was about 13. I was doing the dishes, and she made me so made I wielded the pan I was holding like a weapon. She said, "If you hit me with that..." and her voice faded out... because, really, what ARE you going to do to a 13-year-old who is bigger than you are? In hindsight, I was an appalling teenager for a brief period of about a year, then I normalized and was fine forever after. My mom would agree to that statement. She would also agree when I say I feel very fortunate to only have a son, and I pray for another one.

My heart goes out to you.

Deb said...

She made me so "mad". Not "made". Ugh.

Unknown said...

I guess with mine (9, 11, and 13 aged FEMALES) I always had the mindset that I would raise them to know that they had "value", but not that they were "special". I meet so many parents (not you) whose daughters have princess complexes and can't cope when things don't go their way.

I guess around here it's a philosophy of "I love you, but you're not as important as you think you are, so cut that out and don't act like you can take your shit out on the rest of us."

So they know that they can be upset about something, but throwing a bitch fit is only ok if it's a private thing or no one else has to get dragged into their immature world of misery.

I know many adult women who need to learn that lesson.