Step Away From The Barbies

So I've survived several weeks of preteen angst.  After several discussions with other mothers of preteens I found I'm not alone.  And there's a strange comfort in that.  This week I had my sweet, loving baby girl back.  The week was not nearly long enough, of course it never is.  It seems that we bat an eye and our week together has come to an end.  It grows harder and harder to let her go but I maintain my composure, not daring to let her know how I struggle inside to say goodbye. It's so lonely when she isn't here.  On my alone weeks I struggle to remember what happiness is.  I have too much time to think.  Sure, my zoo is here to comfort me, but they don't talk back, even if half the time she and I do have ridiculously goofy conversations.  I struggle to remember happy.  I struggle to remember love. I struggle to survive.  I'm surrounded by couples. I'm surrounded by happy.  And I force my smiles.  I don't feel ...

It hit me, I am officially the parent of a preteen daughter.  Apparently, this is where my usually sweet and loving Barbie Jr. turns everything into a dramatic event.  Of course, I still love her dearly and usually around bedtime, my sweet and cuddly daughter returns, but it's those in between times that I have to take a moment to pray for my strength. This weeks drama includes, "Mom and Ms. Ken do not understand fashion", "it's not fair" and "but you said...".  Ms. Ken (aka Ken's girlfriend) and I apparently fail to be cool and just don't understand what the kids are wearing these days since apparently NEITHER of us approve of belly shirts.  The only person that can get away with a belly shirt is Winnie The Pooh and even that one is questionable. It's not fair because she was able to go shopping with her dad over the weekend and ol' mom can't afford to go shopping.  Ol' mom does not get hand me downs from people like da...