“Mother Nature is providential. She gives us twelve years to develop a love for our children before turning them into teenagers.”
Savannah turns 13 in a little over a month, but she may as well be 16 already with her emotions running the gamut from giddiness, to anger, to sadness, all in a 5-minute span.
It’s making my head spin trying to keep up!
For years she has wanted to take dance lessons, but it was never in the budget, either time- or money-wise. This year, I finally relented and she started once-weekly lessons in January.
Once every week I have to rush home from work (a 15-mile, 25-minute drive), grab her from her primping in front of the mirror, throw her in the car, and drive like crazy the 25-minutes back into town to get her to the lesson on time.
Here’s an actual conversation we had tonight on our way there (as I sang quietly along to MY music on the radio. Imagine the horror!)
S: “I don’t want to listen to your music on the way home tonight.” (Said in a “this-is-how-it’s-gonna-be” tone)
Me: “Ummm… Why???”
S: “Because after dance is over I’m going to be tired and ornery, and I don’t want to have to listen to it.” (I’m paraphrasing here. It wasn’t actually said in such a nice, lady-like way. You can definitely tell the girl has older brothers… Sheesh!)
Really, Miss Entitlement? You don’t think I’m tired and ornery right now having to spend my time and energy running you and your ungrateful body back and forth after a full day of work and a full night ahead (and should we calculate the costs of this class: not just tuition but the outfit, pictures, and the gas money to go back and forth?!!!). But I’m (a) not allowed to sing along (which of course makes me sing louder) or (b) even allowed to listen to my music at all, in my car?
I don’t think so Scooter!
Being the mean mom that I am, I invited her to discontinue dance lessons if it was going to be such a strain on her psyche. It’s amazing how much better her outlook on life was after that!
I am SOOO not ready for a teenage girl!
Oh, honey. You’re just getting warmed up. At least there aren’t two of her. Trying to kill each other.