My daughter has betrayed me. Again.
Today, without first asking for my permission, Kacie has entered the world of teenagerdom – or teenager dumb. Either or. And both, really.
This is where, for the next six years, she’s made the commitment to make my life hell. By enlisting in the not-so-clandestine organization T.E.E.N. she’s accepted a seven year mission to push limits to the extreme and force her mother and me to create new limits where there once were none.
I know nothing about raising a teenage girl. I was barely coping with being a parent in general, when I just had “kids.” It was okay before because I knew what it was like to be a kid – mainly because I still am one. I was finally getting it down. Coming into my own.
But this is different.
I don’t speak Period or Feminine Hygiene Product or Miniskirts & High Heels. I don’t know what it’s like to have your heart broken by some boy who’s decided just eighteen hours after the world’s longest makeout session at a party you didn’t even have permission to be at in the first place that he likes your best friend better than he does you.
I can’t ask my mom for advice. Yes, she raised five kids (three of which were girls), but she’d be zero help. Her only response would be: “Remember when I told you this day would come? Well, it’s here and I’m not even going to pretend to feel sorry for you.”
Surely there’s a support group out there to help walk me through this. Like a Craigslist for dads. Maybe Dadslist? Mydaughterbrokemyheart.com? Suckstobeme.org?
When I looked at her this morning it was like a stranger was staring back at me, smiling, waiting for me to make the first move even though she’d already made it. All I could do was kiss her on the head and tell her to have a good day and then quickly bail before the floodgates opened and my mascara started to smear.
But at some point in the next few hours I have to go home and face her. No matter how hard I may try to pretend today like nothing’s changed, everything’s changed. I’ll learn to be okay with it. Eventually. Just not today.
Kacie – I love you. You’re more than anything I could have hoped for and better than anything I’ll ever deserve. But you’re grounded.
My dear Kacie:
ReplyDeleteI can still remember the day your parents told me I was going to be a grandmother. My first thought was “Excuse me? A grrrandmother? I think not!” After all, I was too young to be a grandmother! It didn’t take long for me to change my mind. I was thrilled to be a grandmother. I was not, however, going to be called “Grandma”. After you were born, I was given the name “Grams” which evolved into “Grammy”, a name I cherish very much.
Your dad was my first child, my first son, my first in many experiences as a parent. He was my first to become a teenager and then an adult. You are my first grandchild - his first child, his first teenager. The transformation from childhood to adulthood can be difficult and sometimes painful. You have a wonderful (and beautiful!) head on your shoulders and equally wonderful parents to help you through the journey. Learn from the mistakes and cherish the memories. On occasion, give your dad a little grief. When he starts to correct you, wink at him and say, “That one’s for Grammy!”
Dad, you really need waterproof mascara.
ReplyDeleteLove, your daughter.
so glad u blogged about this...I was thinking about u guys and wondering how the teenage thing was hitting.....really strange that u have a teen....I was feeling sorry for myself that I have an 8 yr old that sometimes Acts like a teen!!!
ReplyDeletesuckstobeme.org!!!! U did it again, I laughed out loud!!!