By Cathy Thurber
Just wait until your daughter reaches middle school. Then, between their own hormonal personalities and the cut-throat society that is 6th-8th grade, you will be thinking back fondly on that screaming and kicking two-year old.
I’m only picking on daughters for this one. My son hasn’t yet reached middle school and is just beginning his “tween” stage. Whatever that is. From what I see, though, boys don’t seem to be quite as bad as girls. Bad, as in, emotionally insane. A light switch between attitude and moodiness.
If it’s not the “whatever” answer to something you’ve told her to do (I hadn’t even realized it was a question that needed an answer), then it’s the eye-rolling and deep sighs, which only mean one thing. You – yes, you the parent who has lived at least 20 years longer than she has – know nothing. You were never a teenager. You never went to school. In fact, you must have lived in a hole under a rock and never had friends like hers. Ever.
I will say that I think some of these middle school girls are just certifiable. They change their clothes, shoes, mind, and friends at least twice a day. They can never stand their ground on a belief because they are either 1) afraid they won’t be popular anymore, or 2) afraid the popular girls will make them look stupid. This is why I was a tomboy growing up. It was much easier to deal with the guys, who would tell you they were mad and then shove you, then it was to deal with girls who backstabbed you and then refused to be your friend anymore. And this is what my daughter – and possibly your daughter – deals with now. It’s a daily struggle to keep track of who she is friends with and who won’t be her friend due to a minor miscommunication where somebody’s feelings got slighted. Not to mention the pettiness that comes along with these arguments. It makes my head spin and my blood pressure soar.
I have to stop writing now. I feel the need to call my mother and apologize for ever having been a teenage girl.