A Houseful of Hormonal Females

     "Mom, we had a talk at school today with our teacher." Bean said, an awkward mix of the little kid she still reminds me of sometimes and the young lady she was too quickly becoming. How could they grow up so fast? Wasn't it just yesterday that she was just a toddler and fixated on being 'Ella?

     (Cinderella. It was her favorite princess. Her Halloween costume was 'Ella, her toys were all 'Ella and it was her most watched movie. It was cute and adorable. But I'm glad she has since learned to be way more independent than the Disney Cinderella character ever was. She's more like the Drew Barrymore's Cinderella character off of 'Ever After'. Sassy, independent, tries to do the right thing and doesn't let a boy give her flack.)

      But back to our story...I could tell by the way she brought up the conversation that this wasn't a conversation on math problems or the upcoming testing. This was something else. Something that was making her giggly.
      "What was the talk?" I sat down to listen to her.
      She giggled. "She said that now we're fifth graders we have hormones developing. Hormones. Like we might be outside and playing and all a sudden start crying. Just start crying for no reason but then we might just start laughing like it's something funny."
      "Oh, hormones. I know all about those." I hid a smile. I had tried to explain hormones to her. Pointing out her different mood swings as these hormones just seem to take over my normal kid, trying to help her understand her crazy, roller coasting body, but I usually was met with sullen silence or angry retorts. I was Mom, I didn't understand hormones.
      "And boys. We might cry over boys. Because they don't like us. I'm not going to cry over a boy. I'll punch them first." Oh, if only you would never cry over a boy. 
      "Can you imagine, hiding behind the shed on the playground and just crying for no reason? And some of my friends are like that already. They cry all the time because some boy doesn't like them. We used to have fun on recess, not talk about boys the whole time."
      "And you hate talking about boys and crushes." I smiled, because I knew she was starting to notice boys. Perhaps, and thankfully not as much, as the other girls. But boys used to have cooties and now they would make her giggle and blush.
      "Mom, I don't have any crushes." But she's giggling because she would like one. I inwardly sigh, wondering if I could lock her in her room for the next seven or eight years. Would that be so wrong?
     
      And then I start crying because she's growing up...and I'm pregnant...and I'm hormonal.
     "Mom? Are you okay? You're crying again." She frowns, not sure what to do with this new Mom who seems to suddenly start crying all the time for no reason.
     "Hormones." I say between sniffles, and watch her roll her eyes and then run outside to play, like a kid. She had obviously had enough talk about hormones and crying for no reason. Playing pretend with the younger kids seemed like a whole lot more fun than growing up right now.
     Our poor household though. Not only was Bean hitting some preteen puberty stuff but I was pregnant and extremely hormonal. Do you know how emotionally chaotic it is around here lately with two females completely and totally crying at any moment for no reason?
      That talk her teacher gave could have been for me.
    
     Hormones:
     1. You might start crying at any moment for no reason at all. Yes, that's me. I'm even crying over a Pampers diaper commercial. Seriously. It has newborn babies and newly made Moms on there and the softest, sweet music with sounds of heartbeats and it makes me bawl. For thirty seconds I'm tearing up watching a television commercial. What is wrong with me?
    2. You might start laughing for no reason. I haven't started laughing for no reason but sometimes I'm in a wonderfully, silly mood for no reason at all. Yes, I'm always relieved when I can cross off things on my To Do list but really, I shouldn't be deliriously happy over it.
    3. You might cry over boys. Yes, Hero Hottie has made me cry. Oh, not intentionally at all. But sometimes the wrong joke, something I would have laughed with him before, now has me in absolute tears. So I'm crying and he's bewildered, wondering why something he has said before is now met with huge tears.
       Of course, he's been through two other pregnancies with me, he should know better than making jokes about how big I'm going to get. I can say something about how chubby I was when I was pregnant with Bean---he can't. Unfair I know, but I'm pregnant and I'm allowed.

      So in our tiny house we have a tween and a pregnant woman. Some days we are clashing horribly and then both crying. And poor Hero Hottie, if it's not a pregnant wife being completely hormonal---it's Bean riding a roller coaster of mood swings. One second she reminds us of the little kid she was just a year ago and the next minute she's angry and crying.
     He's surrounded by hormonal females and he doesn't even have a Man Cave to escape to. He's vastly outnumbered, the poor guy. I'm really hoping for a baby boy. Because between Bean and Abu and nieces, CT and Bug; we are surrounded by girls. A little boy would be awesome.

    If not...that's okay too. She'll fit right in.
    But we might just have to build Hero Hottie a Man Cave.
    With a sign that says, "No girls allowed."

Spying on my Kids

    When I was a teenager I vowed to only spy on my kids if I felt there was a reason to. Well, I have a slight confession...Bean left her Doodle Journal- My Life in Scribbles; out on the kitchen table and so when she left for school...I stole a peek or two.
    Hey, the only thing I have to say in my defense is that she's in fifth grade and very moody with developing hormones. She also left the book out.
    I felt a bit guilty for peeking at it but it did offer me a glance inside her world right now and since that occurs less and less as she grows older I'm glad I did.

   First of all and very unfortunately fifth grade hasn't changed since I was in school. One of the pages is titled, The Amazing Erase. It's a page where you can doodle things in life you wish you could erase. 
    Bean would erase; mean teachers, homework, the mean girl at school, stupid songs and stupid words that other people use to hurt you. Sounds like my list from fifth grade. :)
    Now days, if I had a page like that I would erase; bills, bad hair days, shirts you thought looked good on you until someone posts a picture of you in it; and fights with Hero Hottie.
    I wish I could fix Bean's page and make those mean people go away but the most I can do is help her realize that some people are just like that and we can't let them bring us down. That's a hard lesson to learn. And she had to learn that this year with her dealings with the Mean Girl. Stupid words hurt and sometimes for a long time. Luckily, the Principal's continued participation in this situation means that the Mean Girl has left her alone. Unfortunately, she hasn't left the other girls alone but she's quickly finding that more and more parents have banned her from their daughter's lives. Yet, she doesn't learn.

  Her other page was quite revealing in the fact that it dealt with our relationship. That's the hazards of reading some one else's diary, they might be writing about you and it might not all be great. One time we had a neighbor that had a hearing device of some sort so she could hear what her children said from across the cul-de-sac. Her son and my brother were friends and only about nine or ten years old and apparently doing what a lot of kids do....they were complaining about their parents. OMG. How shocking.
   She promptly stalked over to our house, pounding on the door and in a huff started complaining about what they had been saying. My Mom shrugged it off. The words weren't rude and vulgar, just normal kid complaining. The woman was highly upset that my Mom didn't share the same sense of outrage as she did. I think my Mom felt like if you spy on your kids than be prepare to hear things you might not want to. Aren't there sayings against listening at doors?

   Anyway, the Doodle book wanted a doodle of your average day, your ideal day, and your most horrible day. The average day was our usual routine, nothing new there. The ideal day had extra recesses, and awesome meals and cool things happening. Hey, I would take a day like that any day.
The horrible day involved me...a few times. Her worse days start off with us arguing, and end with us arguing.
   I felt sad. I know I feel equally upset by the mornings where I drop her off at school after we've been fighting. It's like the saying, "Don't let the sun set on your anger." Well, don't drop your kid off with anger either. It's not a great way to start the day because you know what Bean is thinking about all morning is not her schoolwork, or her friends or what she needs to accomplish. She's rehashing our argument and feeling awful.
   Yet, sometimes it's difficult not to have a rough start to the day. If Bean is fighting getting ready for school, or complaining...again...about what is in her lunch...or being snippy because I didn't get her favorite shirt washed and I should have known she needed it today without her having to tell me...well, then we might have an argument of some sort.
  Our worse arguments have been over homework. Like the sort of homework she doesn't remember she has until we're walking out the door to go to school. And then she doesn't understand why I won't let her finish it before I take her to school. Umm, because we'll be late? And homework needs to be done the night before, especially when I ask if you have any and you say no?
  
   Fortunately, most mornings run with organized chaos and without a bunch of hurt feelings. But if I learned anything from spying on my kid, is that even though she's still being a moody preteen and acts like she's just a bundle of frowns, scowls, and difficult moments...she is still hurting from the other side of the argument. (Even if she's wrong, since most preteens are. ;)
   It's a reminder that just like when she was a baby, I need to pick my arguments and let the others blow off. And really, I'm starting to realize that a preteen just likes to argues. It works better to calmly go about my business and let her deal with the consequences of her actions. Like don't complain too much about lunch; you might find the same, boring old sandwich in there every day instead. (She hasn't figured this one out yet. I'm just waiting.)
  But I also learned from snooping that even though some times she acts like I'm the meanest Mom ever;  she actually cares. So it's a great reminder that communication is still the key, just like any other relationship. I just have to use more patience than even the times she was a terrible two. --Ha! The terrible twos?? Try the terrible tens.---

  In the meantime, I don't want to invade too much of her privacy so I won't be sneaking in her room to read her diary any time soon but just wait until she's on Facebook---I'll be her first friend. :)