scribblechic

Dimpled smiles and sentimental gestures have been replaced with passive aggressive posturing; deep sighs, eye rolls, and argumentative mumblings. My mild-mannered Mr. Darcy has been transformed into a preteen tangle of emotions. Gone are the eloquent laments and generous demonstrations of gratitude; in its place is a temperamental curiosity that calls me Mom.

Jekyll reaches for my hand when we cross traffic and hugs me before leaving for school. Hyde rants that he needs more respect; bemoaning my high expectations. Jekyll says please and Hyde groans what. I comfort myself with the knowledge that these dramatic demonstrations of  exaggerated irritation are exclamations of independence, but time has passed so quickly that it seems impossible to reconcile the reality of Hyde with the company of Jekyll. How quickly we have arrived at this place of adolescence.

I abhor the angst, but listen to Hyde’s litany of perceived transgressions against Jekyll’s pride. I cling to patience reaching for a connection that will bridge the space between moods. Hormones exaggerate emotions that underlie frustration; contentment challenging conflict with little cause. Hidden beneath my irritation there is humor; the endearing big brown eyes that roll so laboriously and the heartfelt sighs of injustice are delivered with preteen panache.

Tagged: Children, Motherhood, Musings