She woke up grumpy, coming downstairs for breakfast with her PJ’s still on and her hair in the style of wild bedhead.  It was only the start to a Moody Tween day.

“Go get your clothes on,” I told her.

She grunted.

“What do you want for breakfast.”

She grunted.

“You’re going to make us late,” I told her.

She grunted.

“Would you please stop grunting and start getting ready for school,” I told her, exasperated by the caveman conversation.

“I’m not going to school,” she grunted.

“Guess again.  I have too much work on my desk, and you are not even sick.  Get your butt upstairs, get some clothes on, and start getting ready to go.”

She huffed off, and then came back downstairs wearing the same clothes she wore the day before.

“I have nothing to wear,” she said before I could say anything.  I decided to ignore it and move on.

“Make yourself some breakfast,” I said. 

“I’m not hungry,” she pouted.

“Can I make you some toast?” I asked her.  Her brother was already sitting at the table, happily eating Raisin Bran, picking out all the raisins to throw away.  And she was glaring at him for obviously kissing up by eating.

“No.”

“Honey, you need to eat something.  How about a banana?”

“No.”

“Look, I don’t care what you eat.  Just eat something,” I told her, realizing that the whole purpose of breakfast was to eat something nutritious to give her fuel for the day, and at this point I would have been pleased if she pulled out an Otter Pop and just ate the damn thing.  But she was stubborn in her mood, and I wasn’t getting anywhere.  I gave up.  My son, seeing that his sister was in a bad mood, started to exasperate it by making goofy noises and pulling faces at her only inches from hers.  I had to hand it to her for not dropkicking him across the room.

“Stop teasing your sister,” I ordered him.  “Put your bowl in the sink and start getting your lunch together,” I said, eyeing the clock.  He put his bowl in the sink, rinsed it, then opened the fridge to get all the makings for a salami sandwich.  That’s when my daughter decided to get something for breakfast.  She pushed in front of him, got out the things she needed, then closed the door so that he couldn’t get in there.  The squabbling commenced, and then multiple shouts for “MOM!”

“Both of you!  Stand in front of me!” I said, fully aware that the time was slipping away from us and we would be rushing to get to school on time.  “You!” I said to my daughter.  “Get a piece of toast and then start making your lunch.”  She glared at me angrily for even insinuating that any of this was her fault.  “And you!” I said to my son.  “Get upstairs right now and start getting ready for school, and leave your sister alone.  I will finish making your lunch.”  He skipped away happily while my daughter’s eyes filled with tears.  

“You always help him!” she accused me.

“I’m only helping him so that he’ll stay out of your hair,” I snapped back.  “Now hurry up or you’re going to have to get a late pass.”  She shut her mouth tightly, the tears just hovering in her angry eyes, and set to the task of getting ready.  I finished my son’s lunch, fixed my daughter a sandwich, and then went back to getting ready for work.  She finished up and sat at the table, a miserable look on her face.

“Come here,” I said.  She grudgingly did, the fight leaving her.  I pulled her into a hug.  She resisted for only a second before leaning into me.  “I know it’s tough right now.  You’re in a grumpy mood, and your brother isn’t making it any better.  I just wanted you to know that I understand.  And I’m sorry.”  Her sniffles were apparent while she put her arms around me and let me bear hug her.  It was what she needed in her Moody Tween mood, acknowledgment that life was rough right now in her phase of up and down emotions, and a little bit of love when she was trying her best to be unlovable. 

More to come……  Meanwhile, share your horror stories about your Moody Tween!

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