Puberty ... Those dreaded years that make little girls and grown women cry. It's the equal opportunity pity pill. In some ways, perhaps it's even the bridge to the generation gap. (Feel free to stop reading right here. It's going to be one of those kind of posts.)
Little girls weep because:
"I don't KNO-OWWW!"
Life isn't fair and equal.
Their moms said "No!" ... and "I don't think so." ... and "Don't you dare!" ... and "Did throwing a fit get you what you want?" ... and finally, "Go sit on your bed until you've calmed down, and then we'll talk." (I know ... Meanest mom EVER!)
Their siblings are breathing their air ...
Or looking at them with eerily crossed eyes ...
Or ignoring them entirely. (It's a tough life when the hormones take over ... )
Grown women weep because:
Their daughters have dissolved into weeping lumps of tears and woe.
The kids' raging hormones wreak havoc on adult hormones.
Life isn't fair and equal ... and they are realizing that teaching little ones such an important concept is much, MUCH harder than it sounds.
Their daughters alternate between mimicking short & very mobile brick walls (although the brick walls may perhaps respond more often) and tryouts for the wailing banshees of folklore revived.
Their daughters said "No!" ... and "I don't think so." ... and "Don't you dare!" ... and "You can't make me!"
As moms, they then had to think so ... and dare ... and make them.
Their conscience occasionally chimes in with a little voice that says "Did throwing a fit get you what you want?"
Their daughters are breathing in the same (and apparently quite limited) oxygen ...
Or looking at each other with crossed eyes ...
Or ignoring their mothers with great determination. (It's a tough life when the hormones take over ... )
On the plus side, while puberty delights in exacerbating already frayed nerves, it also seems to bring with it a greater sense of responsibility. In the midst of hormonal angst, new visions of what these girls (and their poor mothers) will become begin to emerge. The same hormonal changes that bring such emotional drama seem to smooth off some of the rough edges, leaving stirrings of empathy and understanding in the wake of the emotional storms. Little girls show increasing signs of maturity. They, more often than before, recognize and internalize the consequences of their own choices. In their moments of clarity (admittedly, these are sometimes obscured by the less lucid moments ... ) these girls are more teachable. During those same moments of clarity, it seems that -- at times anyway -- the mothers, overly excited to be talking to somebody instead of at them, are more willing to teach. It seems that, in the midst of all the weeping, there are occasionally tears of joy.