What's Going On?

Hormones hormones hormones.

At least, I hope that's what it is.

This girl is SO moody.   A few weeks ago, she was in her music lesson.  It's 30 minutes long.   She loves Miss Heidi.   She always goes in happy, and comes out happy.   But on that day, she went in happy, and 10 minutes later she came out in tears.

Through her tears she said she wanted to go to Great Wolf Lodge.   Miss Heidi was surprised.

I was confused.   We went to Great Wolf Lodge months earlier. Hannah liked it, but never really mentioned it again.   And now, suddenly, she was terribly sad that we couldn't go there right then and there.  Bawling.  Sniffling.

I comforted her first.  Got a tissue second.  Cleaned her up.  Deep breath. Big smile.  Go back to the lesson with her wet eyelashes sparkling.

Five minutes later, she was escorted out, again in tears.

This time I gave her the riot act.  She was creating this drama for no reason.   Totally random.

I'm a pretty no-nonsense parent.   I told her that she was acting inappropriately. That she needed to cut it out.  She had to apologize to Miss Heidi for wasting her time, and apologize to me for wasting my time and money.
Which, she begrudgingly did.  Her lesson time was over.

And a silent drive home--her choice; I had said everything I needed to.

While I was enjoying the silence of the evening, I looked up into the night sky and saw an almost-full moon.  It was just a couple days before the SuperMoon.

And I sighed.

SuperMoon.   Super PMS.    That's what it was.  Argh!

At least I knew the reason for the breakdown.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Besides hormones, something else is going on.

It's regular growing-up teenaged tension.

Last week Hannah spent some time at a friend's house while I was out.  By all reports she had a wonderful time. She was funny, polite and enjoyable company. A trip to the dollar store to get materials for April Fool's jokes.  All was well.  Until I arrived to pick her up.   Then she became snippy and grumpy.    Ahh, the power of the parent.  My mere presence is enough to set off a reaction.

It wasn't because her play date was over.  It was because I am her mother and I have the audacity to breathe. This I know because I've lived through it before.  She is my third child after all.  I probably even felt that way myself as an adolescent.

It really is quite entertaining.  Annoying too.

My friend who witnessed Hannah's behavior is thrilled.   She LOVES the fact that Hannah is so typically a teenager.  She is giddy over the idea!  

And I am too!

Except when I'm right in the middle of it.

Hannah has the eye-rolling technique down to a science.  The only part she hasn't figured out is that she should use that technique sparingly and with discretion.

Stepping back from the immediate drama, I can appreciate Hannah's position.  I am thrilled that she's growing up and stirring things up.  It's a sign of independence.

Just writing that sentence brought me back to something I said years ago.  I only recalled it because someone quoted me in an article when Hannah was seven.

 “We can’t wait for her to be a teenager, and cause some trouble,” says Beth L., laughing. “That will be a sign that ‘Okay, we’re on track’.”

I guess we've arrived.  I need to keep laughing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And on the topic of independence, Hannah is calling the shots these days.  Literally.

After trying to get chicken pox four times--unsuccessfully-- Hannah had a titer drawn to see if maybe somehow I had missed noticing a mild case of pox.   It was negative.  So it was time for Hannah to get the varicella shot.  

(I am not a fan of vaccines, especially 'optional' ones.  But since Kate was hospitalized for encephalitis from chicken pox with 107 degree fever at age 5, I have been watching Hannah closely.  I'd rather she have natural immunity, but I also know how difficult chicken pox is for adolescents and adults.)

So we stopped by the doctor's office on Monday.   In the waiting room, the nurse called Hannah's name.  Hannah stood up and said, "It's okay, Mom.  I'll do it myself."

And off she went.

She came back in about 90 seconds, smiling, with the nurse saying, "She's a pro!"

That's my girl. Growing up in many ways.  Brave, temperamental, feisty, and goofy.

A Delicate Subject

I'm going to post about menstruation today. And I'm going to speak in generalizations....not about any specific individual...

It is an exciting time when a young woman begins her cycle! I remember the first time I had to bring a purse to school to carry "supplies". My girlfriends who walked to school with me noticed that I had a purse. One asked why I brought it. I proudly opened it up so they could see my menstrual pads. Everyone gasped, since I was the first among my friends to start my cycle. It was my shining moment, and I didn't have to say one word to impress anyone.

When I was in college, I took a Developmental Psych class. The professor was a fabulous teacher. We had already discussed how many cultures have "coming of age" ceremonies, from Bat Mitzvahs and Quinceaneros to ancient Native American ceremonies. Most Americans don't use ceremony much beyond religious confines.

My professor pointed out how meaningful ceremonies and celebrations are. When she was growing up she had a friend who was the youngest child in a family with 4 sons. Her mother died when the daughter was young. The father was a wonderful nurturing parent, but of course, he didn't have first hand knowledge about the changes a girl experiences as she grows into a woman. When she was 11 the daughter went through the uncomfortable task of telling her father when she needed her first bra. She also had the foresight to tell him that she was going to need menstrual supplies at some point in the near future.

The morning finally came when the daughter shyly told her father that she had her first period. Her father didn't say much, other than, "Okay". The daughter went off to school and father to work. Later, when she arrived home from school, the girl went to her room. She was amazed. Her room was overflowing with bouquets of yellow roses. There were flowers on every flat surface! There was a note from her father telling her how much he loved her and how proud he was to be the father of such a lovely young woman.

When the professor was done telling the story, all of us had tears in our eyes. We all knew that it was something we wished we had experienced ourselves--a loving welcome into adulthood.

In our culture most women do not view menstruation as a positive thing. It's a hidden and "shameful" thing. Girls learn from mothers and sisters. They look forward to their menarche, but it is rarely greeted with anything other than a tossed box of Tampax, and maybe, a hug.

Parents of girls, I'd like to suggest that you spend some time thinking about how you can mark your daughter's coming of age in a meaningful and memorable way. Whether that means a special meal with parents or strong minded women, sisters sharing a brunch together, or just a bouquet of flowers. It can be a wonderful way to show your daughter how much you love her and how proud you are of her growing maturity.