dear emily,
teenagers . . . did everybody get a little jolt at that word? or at least a
tiny shiver? oh, the power of a terrifying image. forget "the walking
dead," how much scarier would "the multiplying teenager" be?
i remember watching disrespectful, mouthy teenagers in movies when
my angels were under ten and saying, "my children will never talk like
that." i also thought that i would never be 'that' mom. you know, the
one who morphs from june cleaver to joan crawford.
and the oscar for the most horrifying mom on the planet goes to . . .
if i could do it all over, which i can't, i would train up those bandits just
the way i did BUT not have a conniption fit when they strayed outside
the lines. i would mete out a just consequence and say, "you're
smarter than this, but i still love you. now go make me a martini."
love,
lea
"when the Lord brought back the captives to zion . . . our mouths were
filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy." psalm 126:1, 2
