Goddess, give me the courage to pick the fights I can win,
The patience to wait out the fights that I can't,
And the good sense to know that if you look up 'teenager'
In the psychiatric diagnostic manual
You would find the definition of insanity.
Why did I become a mother?
Why did I think for one unbelievable moment that my mothering skills would be different and my child's experience of "the change" (from childhood to adulthood) would be better than mine?
Why did I think that being an older parent would make me a wiser and more understanding parent?
Today she raged at me about the deplorable state of her hair, if I hadn't 'let' her cut it, it would be long and pretty now instead of this hideous mop that makes look like a squirrel. Just yesterday we were agreeing that Pink has some great lyrics and she was really surprised that I could sing along with the Cores, 'wow, that band must be a lot older than I thought.' Thanks darling daughter, I feel like a stone age hippie now. Her best friend was all enraptured a few months ago about this great new band and singer she had discovered on the radio. She was gushing over Aerosmith and Steven Tyler. I actually enjoyed busting her bubble by telling her that Tyler is older than I am, that I listened to him in high school back in the 70's. She didn't believe me. 'He can't be THAT old, he's really cute!.' Another day maker. Pre-stone age, I must have been born before they invented dirt. Can I get an Amen, sistabloggers?
I know, I know, this too shall pass and too damned fast. I just wanted to enjoy her company awhile longer, while I still had a hint of goddess like status, 'my mom can do anything!' instead of 'Mo-om, you're embarrassing me!' I miss the child who loved me without reservation and believed in me without doubts, who knew that her world was completely safe in my hands. It hurts to crumble and tumble off such a fightful pedistal. I hope when we come out the other side of this rocky journey that we can both be humans and friends.