Raising Pre-Teen Steppe Sisters

I love Mom blogs.
But I've noticed lately that most of my fellow mom blogger friends
have kids that are younger than mine.
And while I love reading about babies and toddlers and all that goes
along with raising them, I miss out on advice from moms of older kids.

I feel all alone with these pre-teens of mine.
It's like I'm a pioneer paving the way....and I need a guide book.

If you knew half the things my kids said....you would request a reality show for them.
John and Kate plus 8 FH & Lo plus 8 minus 6.
For years, I have entertained my friends with their quotes of the day.

I don't know what it is about my kids, but they can make anybody laugh.
"Hilarious" is the adjective I have heard most describing them.
"Quiet" is the adjective that I have yet to hear once.

Maybe it makes them funnier because there are 2 of them?
Or maybe they are just twice as silly.

Either way, they keep me entertained.

They couldn't be more different.

I sat in the movie theater with one of them the other day, holding her
hand throughout the entire movie. No shame, not embarassed at all to
be with her mom.

And the other, I had to threaten her life because she memorized every
single word to Miley Cyrus' new song "23" while away this summer.
And thought it was "no big deal because there's only one cuss word"
but when the one cuss word is the F bomb, it's just not okay.

And then, after I told her that if she ever listened to that song again
that I would lock her in the attic, she acted like I just killed her puppy
with my bare hands.

Staring out the window of the car, tears in her eyes, looking like she
was plotting a suicide mission to bomb an innocent building.
All over some Miley Cyrus.

It's harder being the Mom of a pre-teen than it is actually being a pre-teen.
No matter what anybody says.

Of course, in her pre-teen mind it was perfectly fine that it talked about
drugs and had the F bomb because "it's not like that means I'm gonna
do that stuff" and because "I don't even watch the video because it's bad..."

pre-teen jusification.

I always knew twins would be different, I just didn't realize how different.
One hasn't even mentioned shaving her legs, the other one said, and I quote,
"It's not that I want to shave my legs Mom, it's just that I'm a hairy beast."

pre-teen drama.

And I probably shouldn't mention this, since this is on the internet and all, and
they are going to kill me when they see this....oh nevermind, I can't even tell you
about the time they were staring at each other's armpits looking for hair.
"It's there Mom, it's just really REALLY blonde....."

pre-teen delusions.

I should probably also mention that one is very skilled at texting. And doesn't
hold the normal teenage attitude towards boys of "let me text him every 3 minutes
and drive him crazy". She is what FH called really good. Texting boys just enough
so they get interested in talking to her and then gets all "ok, gotta go now!".
I'm kinda proud of this.

I'm also proud that when I asked her if she had been texting the boy she met at camp,
she said yes...so I asked her about the other boy that she had been texting and she said,
"Oh, I deleted him. He wasn't texting me at all so I just took him out of my phone."
do your thing, girl.

pre-teen boy-texting.

I have one that wears heels. All day, every day.
I wasn't going to buy those heels, but if you ask your mom for something the day
before your brother's funeral, chances are pretty high she'll buy you anything you want.
And so she got heels.
And wears them more than her tennis shoes.
I'm still not sure whose kid she is.
Her sister prefers tennis shoes or cowgirl boots.
And sports bras vs real ones.

pre-teen fashion.

I guess that's all I got for now on the pre-teen pioneer front.
I'll update you as I learn things.
Maybe you can learn from my mistakes?

 

This is what happens when I say "act like you like each other."

Even if these girls keep me on the edge of my seat,
I'm so glad to have them home for this entire week.
They will be gone the rest of July!!
Summer camp, a week at the lake, a week with their dad,
and finally a week at the beach.

I only hope that they remember my name when they get back home.
And that they don't come home singing any more songs with the F bomb.

:)

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