My daughters started back to school this week, and the return to “normal” seems to be disconcerting for them. Thus, they are a little discombobulated. They relieve the stress of this discombobulating circumstance by giving Mommy shit.
Joy.
All of them seem to have decided that 1) I am the stupidest person on the planet 2) nothing I say can be trusted because what the fokk do I know and 3) it is unfair that a moron like me should be able to tell them what they can and can’t do. It’s not just that every single direct parental order I give (come to dinner, pick up your toys, don’t spit in your sister’s hair) is met with argument and stormy tears, it’s that my every suggestion is treated like Nero’s last demented command. They all three, including Baby Spock, will moan “Maaaaaaamaaaaaaa” with the vocal inflection which indicates that they are really saying, “Why is a dumbass like you hassling us again?”
I really thought I had a couple more years before the Tween Drama Fairy arrived to take a dump on me, but clearly I was mistaken.
This morning was a corker. Lilo stomped off in high dudgeon because I would not promise to take her to a spa. I asked her whys she even wanted to go to a spa and she informed me it was so she could relax in a “mud tub”. Where is she getting these ideas? She also blew a gasket over my advice about a little girl in her class that has bullied her in the past, named Sprite. Apparently Sprite has approached Lilo and told her that she (Sprite) wasn’t really a bully and Lilo should totally be her friend because it was Jill (the other bully and Sprite’s closet friend) was the real bully and she (Sprite) has only been pretending to be a bully to make Jill happy. I smell some serious bullshit, y’all. I posited to Lilo that perhaps she should wait and see how Sprite acted before she let her guard all the way down and trusted Sprite again, because people can say things that are untrue just to get something they want. Lilo started wailing that I was mean, suspicious, and cruel to her friends because Sprite was NOT lying. Asperger’s reaction much?
:::headdesk:::
Then my sweet little kindergartener, Stitch, yelled she didn’t love me anymore because I was an evil old witch who always shouted at her and bossed her around. The sin that broke the camel’s back? After asking her to put on her clothes at least four times I lost my temper with her and hollered that if she didn’t get dressed RIGHT NOW then I would give her an X on her behavior chart. Well, no one could be a good Mother who made such heinous threats, now could they? Stitch stuck to her guns, too. I told her I loved her whether or not she loved me back, and she merely sneered. She followed me from room to room just to show me she was shunning me and not speaking to me. It wasn’t until right before she got out of the car to go into her school that she told me she loved me again.
Finally, there came the Poop Battle with Spock. This took up an hour of my life and was hella fun. Spock needed to make poo. Spock did not want to make poo. Not in her diaper, not in her pull-ups, and not in the potty. Any option I gave her was met with screams of defiance and denial. Finally, against her will, she crapped in her pull-up. This was all my fault and she was very, very vexed with me. She only forgave me when she realized I was the bitch who had the breast milk and the soft lap she wanted. However, she scowled at me to let me know I wasn’t off the hook for the perfidy of making poop come out of her butt. Exhausted by the effort of trying not to drop a deuce, she fell asleep quickly.
I called my Mom to complain about the problems with having smart, headstrong, temperamental daughters. She laughed and laughed and laughed. Then she gave me some dumb advice because she is always trying to order me around. Well, I am not about to let her control me. After all, what does she know?
Sheesh.

You have my sympathies. Three girls? Count your gray hairs now and again in ten years.
I hear you. If you want further proof feel free to read my sidebar, “How I Failed Five Today” in “The Lone Woman Diaries,” or the complete exasperated, whiny collection at “Lyrics and Failures.” It ain’t just girls.
Great sympathies here! Sending strong mommy FGBVs to you and “love mommy” FGBVs to the girls.
LOL I have to laugh because my daughter has a 14 year old daughter. Sometimes she forgets who she’s talking to and complains about her daughters attitude. I do exactly what your mom did – laugh and laugh and laugh.
LOL!
Drama starts early and often with girls. My darling sp jabbers at me in rage when I suggest that she get in the high chair/put on her shirt/give back my phone. After all, a parent told me this year that eveyrone in the school knows i’m a mean bitch so what should I expect from my own kid?
Meanwhile, your post is awesome, hilarious, painfully true.
A discussion was made one day on the merits of crap spread out (one kid a day) or the nuclear detonation (all the kids throwing down with you at once and getting it over with). No conclusion was reached.
Boys are way easier than girls. I’ve got 1 girl who at 32 is STILL moody and 2 boys- 1 27 and 1 almost 13. Boys blow up and then it’s over. I always wondered why the little girl clothes was so much cuter than the little boy clothes, but now I know it’s to remind us that we DO think they’re precious and cute…especially when they’re not.
*are* *are so much cuter* (pre-coffee fingers…)
The whole post was funny — but I could relate most to the final paragraph!! (smile)
The kid’s name is Sprite? No wonder she’s a little byiach. Her sisters Tango and Coke must be little menaces