Only One Of Us Can Possibly Survive

My oldest daughter is nine. And a half. Do not, under any circumstances, forget the "and a half." It is of vital importance to her.

She's had a lot of changes in her life in the past year. She was excited about getting a baby sister. She had more than a year to acclimate to the idea. Then, she finds out there will be not one but two siblings on the way. That was a bit of a shock to say the least. But she rallied. She was looking forward to having a brother. Maybe this wasn't such a horrible thing. Maybe her parents weren't trying to ruin her life.

So now she shares with two siblings everything she used to have for herself; parents, grandparents, books, toys, her room. It's been an interesting ride. It's nothing compared with what we're going through now.

This is her last year in single digits. She'll be ten in September. I have difficulty believing this. I can remember what it was like when I was pregnant for her. Now she's almost a teenager. God help us all. I don't think both of us will survive the next few years.

We are in to the pre-teen angst already. Her father and I have suddenly become the most stupid people on the face of the earth. Her eyes are going to roll right out of her head one of these days, and if she sighs any more, she'll pass out from lack of oxygen. She probably needs hearing aids because she never seems to hear us when we tell her to do something. Either that or she suddenly forgets how to understand English. I'm not sure which one. And as for doing what she's told, she suddenly no longer has to. Never mind that this is stuff that has always been the rules. She doesn't like it so she no longer feels the need to do it, or not do it, whichever is the case. Wouldn't you think that if something has been a rule for x-number of years, it will continue to be the rule? Not if you're our child. She somehow expects them to magically change.

Like bedtime. Each night she is surprised when I expect her to get ready for bed a nine o'clock. Surprised! And each morning when I ask her if she's brushed her teeth and washed her face, she's surprised again. And don't even think about asking her if she's gotten dressed and made her bed. That's not something she wants to talk about. Are those her clothes on the back of the love seat? Oh, she's expected to put them away? Again? She can't leave books and pencils anywhere she wants to? Why ever not? She has to clean her room? She just did that last month! What do you mean she can't leave stuff lying around wherever she wants in her room? Her parents are totally impossible!

If it's this bad now, one of us will surely not survive until she reaches adulthood.