I have a hormonal pree-teen.

She's suddenly, literally overnight, turned into a Dr Jekyll, Ms Hyde kind of child. Has sprouted breasts and has to wear a bra, has oily hair and pimples....is prone to swift and unmerciless attitude and mood changes where she throws herself onto the floor, screeching and wailing, throwing her hair around like the end of the world is upon us. Sulks for no apparent reason, and is just plain miserable to be around sometimes. Thinks that she can smart mouth me and just walk away...and I have tried to remain patient, but this afternoon was the straw that broke the camel's back.  She copped an attitude, so I told her to go to her room.  She said no, so I said yes.  She said I couldn't tell her what to do and she didn't have to listen to me.  I pointed out that this is MY house, and that while she's living under MY roof I get to lay down and enforce the rules.  She got in my face and screamed that she hated me.  I said that that was too bad, because I loved her.  She screamed that she didn't care and that she was going to leave as soon as she could.  I said she could go when she was 18 but that until then she was going to do as I said and go to her room.  She went to her room, slammed and locked the door, and started throwing stuff around.  Tipped out all the drawers from her dressers, ripped down the drapes.....I could hear all this going on, so I popped open the lock, grabbed her by the back of her shirt in mid-throw and yanked her out into the hallway.  She screamed that I needed to "get the f&*k out" of her room.  I repeated that this is MY house and that every room in it is MY room, and that when she'd calmed down she was going to go back in there and clean up everything she had destroyed.  She could even eat dinner in her room tonight, and she can forget about phone, TV and video games for a couple of days.  She sat there for a bit with me standing over her, then got up, smoothed down her hair, and went into her room, closing the door behind her.  She's still in there.

I got to thinking...about how I must have been the same way when I was her age.  I remember getting into some real vicious fights with my mother...I cannot imagine how she ever managed to put up with me.  My opinion of her has changed...the woman is a virtual saint in my eyes now.

I'm going to call her in the morning and tell her as much myself.

Hmm...how long before Shea can move out?  6 years?  I don't know if I can last that long....