Showing posts with label bloody growing up. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bloody growing up. Show all posts

Saturday, 26 March 2011

Teenage Rampage

I need help.

I've always joked that she was born a teenager - but now.......

Mr Roving Blade thinks we should come down hard on her unacceptable behaviour. That seems like fighting fire with fire. Never understood that phrase actually. But it's a bus stop along from smacking a small kid for smacking another kid.... 'Don't do what you just did and to show you not to do it I'll do it.' Er...... When it's mental teenage horrificness - are we really only able to be horrific back? What does this gain? Headaches and doors off hinges.

I've had enough already. She's always been volcanic but the last 3 days have been unbearable - and she's still 11. And it's just Day 3. I've got years of this now. I know I have. I remember it well from my own eruptions. Just shoot me now.

I'm remembering the small grey silent stone child that I used to deposit at school and the brittle grey stone bitching harpie I used to pick up. She turned quite human for the last few years. And now.... now I have a spitting amazonian spot-riddled obstreperous screeching warrior gorgon dervish beast screaming into my face until her voice cracks.

And I'm the 'understanding' one who sits (at a respectful distance) on the pummelled settee in the middle of the night when she's come downstairs to sob.

When I caringly suggest she needs to get plenty of sleep because she's growing so much at the moment she turns even blotchier and blubs that she doesn't want to grow any more. It is true that most of her friends are tiny. People always think she's older than she is. And she wants to be OLDER than she is. She's always trying to pull away and go off somewhere ELSE. But she doesn't want to grow any BIGGER.

It's a crap age. It's crap being a girl at this age. I remember one very lovely lady telling me about some groovy wooomany moony ritually woolly bollocky book that was supposed to be all beautiful and at one with the universey but it's just not gonna cut it in this house. When she first asked me about periods 'n' stuff I told her it was shit. I really did. I did feel a bit guilty and tried to be a little more groovy wooomany etc but I can't keep that nonsense up. I read about some types who do white dresses and grandmothers in circles and no dads or brothers allowed in the big tent and bowls of red flowers and all that hippy shit and I just thought they sounded like wankers. The truth is this age is hell and you cannot pretend it's all wonderful just because you stick a candle in a puddle of tofu. It's just pretend. Your daughters will still hate you.

I'll probably have to go and knock on her door in half an hour or so and see if she's either trashed the joint or is huddled up in a muffled shaking hysteria. Don't know whether to wave a white flag or wear a helmet.

So there it is - I have up to now always managed to find an excuse to wander off when friends start talking about their elder daughters, sticking my fingers in my ears and blalalalalaing until I was safe. But now I need to start probing. Examining. Researching the evidence. Trouble is, I usually find other people's advice to be laughable. Certainly anything to do with child rearing. 99% bullshit. How will I know what's good and what's bogus about the teenage lark? I really don't know if anyone has any answers at all. A bit like the cure for the common cold. Everyone's got their own twaddle to spout but....... hey - right now any twaddle any of you may choose to share would be bigtime welcome!!! I'm desperate!!!!


H * * * E * * * L * * * P * * * !!!!!!!