Mother vs Daughter
It's not about me. It's not about me. It's not about me. Thank God for teachers and school because if my 15 year old daughter and I had to spend one more full day of "quality time" someone was going down and I promise it wasn't going to be me. Not only do I have about 100 lbs. on her, but I'm scrappy when necessary. I'm trying to go back into my rolodex of memories to find a moment when I've felt like she loved me and vise versa and whelp.....it's hard to think of any right now.
I just love feeling hated. It's truly the best. Cooking and cleaning and taking care of her every basic need while barely receiving a response (the one I do receive is solely to avoid having the TV or some other privilege taken away) warms my heart in ways I can't even describe. I even double checked my hands yesterday to make sure that my fingertips weren't protruding battery acid. Why does she flinch when I touch her but she hangs on people she doesn't even know? She couldn't get close enough to my fully tattooed brother this week. She would have rode around baby Bjorn style if he would have been open to it, and although I'm thrilled she loves her uncle selfishly I'm jealous of the attention and affection.
I'm sure she's just in a crappy mood because my family (who she adores) left Saturday and she's back to reality/school today. Reality is basically a long list of things she doesn't want to do. Physical therapy, practicing the piano, putting all her toys away that are still laying on the kitchen table, writing thank you notes, eating food she doesn't like, you know.....the joys of adolescence. On top of that I've got her hormones working against me as well. Yesterday I just tried stayed away and keep her fed......felt like I was housing a pet bear.
To really piss me off she actually tried to tell me Saturday afternoon at lunch she wanted to (gasp) CUT HER FREAKIN HAIR! Yeah right honey. I just smiled the fakest smile I could muster and told her she could do whatever she wanted with her hair when she was working, living on her own, and had graduated high school. That'll buy me at least 15 to 20 years. In the meantime I'm hiding all the scissors.
How did my mom (and every other mom that's ever raised a teenage girl do this?! Every day I want to text my mom and apologize for years 1994-2005. I guess she deserves this vindication though. Humph.
It's so impossibly hard to think the thoughts I shouldn't be thinking. Noooo I'm not going to send her back (I think?). The thought I'm trying to resist is "She should be so grateful and LOVE her life." Yes I'm cringing at myself right now. Cringing! Prior to adopting, everyone and everything told me this would be the hardest thought to battle. She should be grateful? For what? She didn't ask to be abandoned and raised by a million strangers (some not so nice to put it mildly) that have all come and gone. She didn't ask for a leg amputation or a new prosthetic that she's having to relearn how to use. Heck she has two huge scars (one on her arm and one on her right leg) that were obviously major surgeries that we don't even know when or why they took place?! She didn't ask to be taken away from her home and brought to a new and strange place where she is having to basically start over from scratch. She didn't ask for any of this. Sigh....that last sentence alone is like a glass of warm skim milk to my soul, and I'm immediately feeling ashamed for my impatience and attitude towards her. Better read that paragraph right before I pick her up from school today.
God forgive me for being so self-righteous, controlling, and just annoying in general. Going to try to work on that. Humph.