One of my guilty pleasures is watching "American Dad" on Fox. It's a cartoon, and it's for adults, and its brash, and often times outright rude. But it's funny. The season premiere started with the teenage boy announcing that he had hit puberty. This immediately caused flashbacks for his parents of when their daughter had gone through puberty. They then packed their bags & planned on running away until it was over. They were scared.
I can relate.
I know what it is. The problem with puberty. It's the crying.
Not the silent tears running down her cheeks, and a slight sniffle. Not the crocodile tears like when she couldn't get what she wanted. Not the scared cry, not the hurt cry.
It's a cry that I am pretty sure comes from her toes.
It's a cry that sounds like she has just lost her best friend, and cat, all at once.
In fact if you heard it, it would break your heart. It's quite pitiful. Because it's not mean spirited. It's not a temper tantrum. She is sad.
Today she cried for about 10 minutes. Inconsolably (not that I was trying to console her, I wasn't). But before you judge her, let me tell you, the cause was very serious in nature. You see, she wanted rigatoni for lunch. She got PBJ.
I know, it's tragic beyond words, and I fully understand why this act in & of itself truly made her believe that I do not love her. That although there are children starving, the fact that she had PBJ instead of rigatoni was the biggest betrayal that I could have ever inflicted on her.
The thing is, is that she used to be reasonable. She's a good girl, don't get me wrong. But at some point in September all sense of logic & reason went out the window.
Sometimes it's going to dance class, sometimes it's not being able to go on the computer, sometimes it's rigatoni. And her world shatters.
Now bear in mind, I'm not completely ignorant, our family had a very rough summer, a lot of very serious health situations with our loved ones. I know that took a toll. But she soildered through. She went to sleep away camp for the first time for a week. Loved it wants to go for two weeks next year. Middle school started. Lots of responsibility, and independence.
I get it.
And I have expected terrible outbursts, and tantrums, and rebellion.
I got crying. And despair.
But then it's over. Forgotten. But not regretted. She feels justified in being that sad.
What does it symbolize to her I wonder?