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Hormone Showdown

What know one tells you....

Almost 11 years ago I brought home from the hospital my second baby girl. She was a beautiful, dark eyed bundle of joy.

As she grew she had a wonderful wicked sense of humor and the ability to make you laugh out loud. She was goofy and totally adored by her older sister, brother, and parents.

She also developed a stubborn streak a mile wide and a mile long. One time at the age of five I threatened to take away all of her toys if she would not clean her room. She boxed every last toy into a box and handed it over to me.

There is no discipline that works when Al decides she doesn't care. You could probably hang her by her toes, naked in the middle of town, and she would fold her arms shrug her shoulders and tell you, "Whatever."

So for the past 10 years we have walked the line of totally adoring Al and totally wanting to strangle her.

However, what know one told me (AGAIN)...

Is that cute little bundles of pink joy grow into girls with hormones. I am now on my third child going through the stage of developing hormones. The first one caught me off guard, the second one rocked my boat, but I was prepared for the third one.

I know the difference between a rational child and one experiencing the effects of hormones. I know not to take anything they do or say seriously and I know to stay calm. I am a trained professional I am as chill as an ice cube baby!

But... but....

This one is changing the rules. Deep breaths, counting to 10, 50, 1000...., time out. They are all failing me, because she doesn't care how crazy I get.

In fact, I'm pretty sure if you could see her hormones at work they are armored and ready for battle. Take no prisoners is the yell that I see behind her gorgeous brown eyes.

Yesterday was a prime example of how much fear I live in.

Me: "What time is it?"

Brent: "4:13"

Me: "Crap, crap, crap, crap.. Where are my keys? Why didn't you tell me the time earlier? WHERE ARE MY KEYS!!!"

Brent: "What is your problem?"

Me: "I'm suppose to pick Al up from the school at 4:15!"

Brent: "Crap! Where are your keys? Why didn't you leave earlier? Do you have any idea what is going to happen if you don't get there in time?"

Me: "I know! I KNOW! Help me find my keys"

Brent: "We don't have time to find your keys take mine... go... go.. go!!!!"

Me, Running out the door with one shoe on,  one arm in my jacket the other flapping behind me and borrowed keys.

Yes, we were both in full on panic mode which is pretty scary to realize how scared we both our of our ten year old.

If your laughing right now I just have one thing left to say, "I'm telling you so one day you can't ever say, "Know one ever told me.""

BEWARE of HORMONES!
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Angie said…
I am seriously laughing my butt off right now because I totally know how you feel! I was scared of my 10-year old too!!! That's why I was always at the school half an hour early. Got some good reading time in too. Lol.

But your 10-year old was sooooo sweet when I got her 5 minutes later. You must not have been late! I love not being the parent sometimes! :))
October 27, 2010 at 9:42 AM
Me, Myself and I said…
2 year old ... 10 year old
October 27, 2010 at 12:13 PM
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