Jane

The kids are sitting with me now, doing their homework and snacking. I noticed Jane has a pimple on her chin.

I know she hasn’t been washing her face the right way, and I can help her, but sometimes that has us fighting.

I also know that if I let her get a little pimply she’s a little less attractive to the boys. Would it really kill her to have an awkward year?

Then again, girls are unkind.

It’s just a pimple, but at the moment it’s a metaphor for our lives together the next few years.

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Comments 7

  1. relax Jessica. yes girls are mean, sometimes to the point of being hateful. But we all have been through our ‘awkward’ year(s) and well we survived. with teens, sometimes semi-ignoring the issue (unless its life threatenting) always worked for me. eventually the said teen, and usually within a day or so, would ask for help or something to help the issue.. Jane is a sweetie and lucky lucky to have you as a mom…you’re doin ok…but you knew that, didn’t you?

  2. believe me, what the next years have to offer will bring you to your knees begging for just a little pimple. hold tight and take some dramamine, the teen years make you a bit queasy but we do all live through them.

  3. Hi Jessica –

    Visiting your site after seeing you on a DVR’d episode of Dr. Phil. I am enjoying your blog and look forward to coming back and reading more!

    My daughter is 5 and I’m dreading those teen years. She’s starting already — “No mommy, I want my hair THIS way….not the way YOU’RE doing it!”

    Sigh!

    All I can say is that we must strap ourselves in and enjoy the ride as much as we can (without throwing up!)

    ~ Jennifer
    http://thetoyboxyears.blogspot.com

  4. I was an athlete as a teenager… I wore boys basketball shorts and tee shirts and basketball shoes when I’d hang out with my athlete boyfriend. My mom would say to me every time I left the house… “Do you want him looking at you? Or do you want him looking at the girl walking by?”

    Eventually, that stuck with me and I started taking a bit more care when I got dressed. It wasn’t because I wanted him to look at me. It was because I wanted my mom to.

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