Having a 13 year old is no joke. Having any kid of any age isn’t easy, but there’s a special little challenge that goes along with having a 13 year old daughter. She’s brave and brilliant, gorgeous and funny and lovely. Also bitingly sarcastic, moody as hell, and not at all shy about expressing it. Jessie is all about doing it 110% – whether it’s good or bad, she throws her whole self into whatever she’s feeling and it spills out all over everyone.
Mornings are hard. They just are. Some mornings are better than others, most mornings are better than others. I love good mornings. I genuinely love driving my girls to school, talking about what we’re doing after school, debating different dinner options, and kissing them goodbye before they bop out the door.
Today was not a morning I’d like to repeat. Similar to last Thursday, it was a morning when we just battled the entire drive. I’ve adopted a new technique, I just pull over and refuse to drive until she can speak to me kindly. Depending on how furious I am, I’ll pull over gently or I’ll slam on the brakes. This morning, I slammed on the brakes. Given that part of what she was furious about was that she wasn’t able to buckle herself in easily (mainly because she had chosen to get into the car with her backpack on, her books and glasses and flutes and binders on her lap), she went flying forward and slammed her flute into her chest.
Not a good morning.
She was okay – furious all over again, and sore because her ribs hurt. Upset about her life, because it’s hard right now. But life is always going to be a little hard sometimes, and super hard sometimes too. You have to learn to control your emotions, and not take it out on others, especially your mother.
We made up by the time we got to the bus stop, she kissed me good bye and told me she loved me. But now I’ll spend all day worrying about her, and thinking about her poor little ribs with the flute jammed into it.
Hopefully tomorrow will be better.