By three methods we may learn wisdom: first, by reflection, which is noblest; second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third, by experience, which is the most bitter.
Confucius

Ever since school started Sister gets in to the car everyday and talks about cars. What kind of cars are cool, which one she wants, which one she would never have, which lame car made “cool car of the month” at school…why they have cool rims on granny cars and on and on and on. She is turning 15 in April and her mind is only on one thing. Cars. Meanwhile, everyday I take her to and from school and you know all the other mom stuff…which includes here, there and everywhere.

It seems like traffic at the beach has gotten worse this past month, I don’t know if it’s because more people are out shopping, or what, but Gaaahh…there are a lot of drivers who think they are the only ones on the road. It stresses me greatly. I was joking with sister today that the reason I don’t have a fish on the back of my car is because when I am driving I don’t really want people to know I am Christian. Ha. Seriously though, it is hard not to “complain” when others think they are the only ones on the road.

Sister said she was going to have to take drivers ed to learn how to drive properly. I joked that her dad had been teaching her to drive (when she goes to visit, he lets her drive,) she replied, No, dad lets me get behind the wheel, you are teaching me to drive.

Oi… Maybe I need to get one of those fish after all.

Of all the haunting moments of motherhood, few rank with hearing your own words come out of your daughter’s mouth.
Victoria Secunda

My daughter, at 14 is starting to come into her own.  I see her blossoming everyday and when I remember myself at 14, am so grateful for her life, knowing how it could be.  She has a good peer base, she has a servant’s heart, and she still loves her momma; what more could a mom want. 

Last night after I picked her up from youth, she was full on. Everywhere I turned she was there with a hug, or a poke, or up in my face.  I would walk around a corner and she would be there scaring me out of my skin.  I  tried to tidy the kitchen and she was inches from me.  Finally, after an evening of this, I asked her why she was bothering me.

She said.  “I’m not bothering you, I’m being loving.”

Me: “Oh, I thought you were being annoying.”

Her:  “Yes, well, annoying is a teenagers way of loving her parents.”

Me:  “Oh, I see, sort of like me telling you the dishes in the dishwasher are clean and need to be put away before you go to bed, is a mom’s way of loving her daugher.”

Her:  “I’ll Quit.”

It’s all in speaking their language, I say.