Eye rolling and slamming doors...

I have a teenage daughter... and she's only eleven. I knew it was coming, I have been warned, and I've been there myself. However, I thought I had at least a couple more years, but tonight as Rosanna huffed and puffed and stomped off to bed (slamming the door on the way there) unhappy about the conversation we had just had, I realized, it has arrived. Don't get me wrong, she is the most awesomely wonderful smart, generous, funny, and beautiful daughter I could ever ask for. Everyday I'm thankful that she turned out the way she did in spite of having ill-prepared and too-young parents. I'm convinced she is partially responsible for parenting herself. Unfortunately, whatever gets into the heads of young girls and convinces them that their mothers have no idea what they are talking about has finally crawled in and infested Rosanna's brain.

Now, I'm going to address this paragraph to my mom, because I know she is reading this and I already know exactly what she is going to say: "She's just like you..." "Now you know what I went through..." and so on. Yeah I get it, I was a total monster as a teenager. I openly admit it. I should probably have gone through some kind of twelve step program for it. I'm sure my being blessed with parenting two girls is a direct result of my behavior as a teenager.

Luckily I have two secret weapons. First, I remember exactly what it was like when I was that age and I will do my best to keep that in mind when we both get irrational. Second, an amazing supportive husband that has a special connection with Rosanna that only they understand. I'm not really sure what he even says to her when they have their serious conversations, but they work. I also know that one day she will grow out of it and realize that her mom is a pretty great person and might even want to hang out with her sometimes, you know, just like I did. Love you mom!