She scares the shit out of me.

I don’t watch scary movies because I don’t find enjoyment in being scared. I don’t like haunted houses or having things jump out of a cornfield at me. Once the suspense music starts in a movie, I’m done. The scariest thing lately though, my 12 year old daughter.

I’m not sure if it’s because she’s the youngest or because I’ve let my calluses soften during the recovery time that I have had from my oldest. This one, the little one, she’s a whole different level. Yesterday I left work early and drove 30 minutes to her cross country meet. It was fricken hot. I about died trying to get to the starting line in time. Parking at these things is about as intense as the parents that scream their kids times at them as they run by. She is not the fastest but she’s not the slowest either. Usually finishing in the top 25%. Unfortunately she can’t get out of her own head and gets pissy when she doesn’t get a PR.

Now I understand emotions are big at this age. I know that disappointment is unavoidable. What I don’t understand is why the pouty attitude and the slamming of the backpack is necessary. I hate it. I can not stand when any of my kids gets an attitude on the field or around anyone. Once you’re in the car it’s free game, until then you better fake that shit.

Of course I obviously had lost my mind on the way to the car because I had the audacity to ask her if she has been really practicing to get that PR. If looks could kill, you’d be reading my obituary instead of my blog. She shot me daggers and replied, “Mom no one has and they don’t have a problem!” I thought that telling her that she doesn’t have to do it again next year would take some pressure off. All that did was put me in first place for dumbest mom of the year.

Once we got to the car and got the air conditioner going she seemed to simmer down a little. I stopped at a gas station to get her a cold drink. I stood staring at the cooler section with 3 different options in my hand because I wasn’t sure what one she would want. What would make her happy and not dig my grave deeper. I also grabbed her a bag of chips and a cup of ice. After all we were stuck together for the next 30 minutes. If you don’t hear from me in the next week send help.