Little Miss Attitude

Over the past few months, the Little Miss has developed what I kindly refer to as “sass” (but which is probably better described as “teen with an attitude”). 

Now, I’ve done this teen thing twice already.  I’ve been through the “I hate you” phase, the “don’t talk to me because you totally don’t understand” phase, the “Whatever” and “Nevermind” phases.  And I’m currently deep into the 17 year old “When can I drive the car and why do I need to actually talk to people” phase.  So, I get it.  This is what teens do, and they’re supposed to.  It’s one of those ‘developmentally-appropriate’ things that while annoying, is also necessary.  Independence isn’t easily achieved, for teens or their parents.

So what’s the difference now that Little Miss is 13 and full of her own brand of sarcastic remarks and frequent “whatevers” ?  Simple.  I didn’t expect it.  For a long, long time, I didn’t even think we’d see her be 13.  (Years and years of words like “life-threatening” and “uncertain prognosis” tend to put a damper on imagining your child’s future).  And when I started to believe that we would, eventually, have a teenager on our hands, I couldn’t quite imagine what that might look like for her.  She’s still dependent on us in a lot of ways, and she’s always been a little behind when it comes to social and emotional development.  She misses the visual parts of being a teenager – like knowing what everyone else is wearing, or who the cute boys are – and I wondered if she would even care.  And I didn’t really know any teens with disabilities, and certainly none with her particular set of challenges, so I had basically no frame of reference. 

Turns out she’s pretty much like all the other teen girls.  She alternately wants to curl up next to me on the couch or spend hours in her room away from me.  She loves to shop and would happily spend hours in a shoe store.  She hates when I pick out her clothes, and she’s informed me that parts of her wardrobe are not middle-school worthy.  She struggles with homework, but balks at any offer of help from me.  She can remember everything her friend said in math class, but has 5 coats stuffed in her locker because she keeps forgetting to bring them home.  She handed me a detention slip one afternoon, and casually informed me that “all the kids got one, so it’s not like it was my fault”.  She’ll turn any argument with her brother into a chance for all-out war, and when it’s over, she’ll ask if she can have some of his chocolate bar.  She wants to help with the dishes and put away the laundry, unless I ask her to, and then she suddenly has lots of homework to do.  She knows what WTF means, and she cracked herself up when she dared to actually tell me.  And, despite the fact that she can’t see – has never seen – the typical teen facial expressions, she’s managed to perfect the sarcastic eye-roll, the I’m-so-much-smarter-than-you smirk, and the if-I-cry-will-I-get-my-way pout.  She’s also a master of the exasperated sigh. 

She’s 13.  At least once a day, she drives me crazy.  When I told her tonight that it was time for bed, I got a snarky “whatever” in response.  She is, as I’ve pointed out to her, just like her sister was at this age. 

And isn’t that just the most amazing thing?