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	<title>WIRL Project &#187; teen</title>
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	<description>What It&#039;s Really Like.</description>
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		<title>9 Going on 16&#8230;.What It&#8217;s REALLY Like!</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/9-going-on-16-what-its-really-like/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/9-going-on-16-what-its-really-like/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 11 May 2015 16:00:32 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Heather]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[9]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[9 going on 16]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Attitude]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Brat]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Daughter]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Glitter]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Mom]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sweet child]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[teen]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Teenager]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=5979</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#160; My sweet, sweet little girl….yea right!!! Her teachers and other moms always tell me what a sweet girl she is. I just laugh. I laugh, but want to cry. She isn’t like that with me!! What the hell? It is like she is Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. One minute, she is sweet and nice to me (usually when she wants something), then when she realizes she isn&#8217;t going to get what she wants, she starts whining and her voice gets high pitch and I have no idea what the hell she is saying. Whatever that sound she makes, it hurts my ears and I just wish she would just go away. Disappear until she returns back to normal. I wish I had some magic powder to sprinkle on her to make her act normal and not so dramatic all the time. &#8220;But WHYYYY can&#8217;t  I go, mom?? WHYYYY?  I just HAAVE to go!&#8221; All of her words have to be drawn out and SO dramatic. The arguing, fighting, screaming, whining, and snotty attitude is draining!! I know you moms out there with girls feel the same way. I did it to my mom (payback is a bitch) and I am sure my daughter’s daughter will do it to her. It is like she has something against me. I know! It is because I am her MOM. I don’t have to do anything, except talk or breathe and she thinks I am wrong.  I am the one who carried you for 9 damn months and went through labor! I am the one that was up with you all those long nights when you were teething. Who do you come to when you are sick or hurt? YOUR MOM. I love how I try and give her advice about friendships or about anything and she continues to tell me how I don’t know what I am talking about. Really, girl?? I don’t know what I am talking about?? You are 9!! You have no idea, NO idea!! But, hey! If I want to know the truth about how I really look, she won’t hold back. She has NO problem telling me when I look fat, old, pale, or when my hair needs to be done. Let’s talk about mornings…. Trying to get her ready for school every single morning, is a struggle. I just LOVE starting my day off by arguing with my 9 year old over what she wants to eat for breakfast or what shoes she wants to wear that day. I just LOVE it…..NOT!! I think she secretly loves to make my life hard. I really think she loves to push my buttons. I have to say, she is brave, really brave, doing that before my coffee in the morning. I don&#8217;t dare take her around that Justice store anymore! I get a headache in that damn place. Glitter, glitter, sparkles, short shorts, crop tops. Sorry, my 9 year old shouldn&#8217;t blind people with her clothes. Plus, the quality of those clothes are horrible. And EVERYTHING is MY fault. Anything bad that happens to her &#8212; is MY fault. She blames ME for when SHE trips on her own shoes in the hallway. “Why didn’t you tell me to pick these up? It is your fault I tripped over them” “Why didn’t you get me up earlier to get ready for school? It is YOUR fault I am late.” MY fault, MY fault…It is ALL my freaking fault! Little BRAT &#8212; I tell ya! I think a demon lives inside her. But, it ONLY comes out when she is really tired or really hungry. Her voice gets really low and her eyes get this evil look. Right away, I know to grab food and make her eat it right away! “Calm the demon, calm the demon!” Basically, I am just screwed. Anything I say or do won’t ever be good enough for my daughter. She will always compare me to other moms and always argue with me. I just have to accept it and wait. Wait until the day she experiences her own life and after she has her own kids. Then, she will realize what I had to go through. And, payback is a bitch! &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160;]]></description>
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		<title>Nine is the New Thirteen</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/nine-is-the-new-thirteen/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/nine-is-the-new-thirteen/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Mar 2015 10:00:54 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Hollie]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[9 is the new 13]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[kids]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Mom]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[parenting]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[teen]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tween]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=4189</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[We are on the edge at my house. A very delicate, confusing, frustrating edge. You see, I have a nine year old. And not just any nine year old, but one of the female kind. We are teetering on the edge of being a kid and coming into her own, and let me be the first to tell you: it’s maddening. I understand it’s a struggle, and people warned me, but honestly, I thought all this drama was saved for the teenage years. Not the pre-pre-teen years! SHE IS NINE!! When did nine become the new thirteen? Why didn’t this mom get that memo?! You’d think with the endless emails and pieces of paper sent home from the school that clutter up my inbox and counter top, one of them could have mentioned that nine is the new thirteen? All I can gather is that it’s very hard to be nine. Not the same way that it’s hard to be three because that one is different. When a child is three and tantrums are every other hour, the in-between hours are filled with cuddles and I love yous. Not when you are nine. The in-between hours of tantrums of a nine year old (yes, tantrums!) are filled with sassing and “why does everyone hate me?!” Just yesterday she was three. And I thought three was tough. But three has nothing on nine. Nine is a whole new scary beast that creeps up on your perfect little angel and eats them up and spits them back out in a form you do not recognize. I miss three. Every once in a while there is a glimmer of hope that my beautiful baby girl is still in there when she wants to cuddle on the couch or asks me to do her hair. Just as I realize how nice it is to have my baby back, she turns on me and screams…”WHO ATE ALL THE BLUEBERRIES?!?” She is beautiful, talented and caring. She’s not the “mean girl”. As a matter of fact, she is one who shuts down the mean girls at school and welcomes the new girl with open arms. I’m so proud of her. I thought I was doing everything right as a parent. We always think that, don’t we? But I fear that I’m doing it all wrong. That I’m an epic failure as a mom because I now have the sassy nine-year-old. Sure, sassy thirteen-year-olds people understand. But nine?!? I’ve clearly done something wrong. When she screams at me that I “don’t love her like a daughter!” – that is what makes this age different than thirteen. What does that even mean – I don’t love her like a daughter?!? I miss three. Thirteen is different from what I can remember. It’s hormones and boys and friends. This is different. It’s a conflicting age because while they want to be big, they still have the emotions and insides of a kid. A missed problem on “Extra Math” (don’t get me started on the Extra Math drama!) can result in a full, toddler-style meltdown. But then in the next moment, a tongue full of sass comes flying at me from across the room and almost takes off an ear because she can’t stay up all night. Who is this girl? I miss three. I have a feeling that this is just the beginning. We have many more years ahead of us to figure out and navigate together. They’ve always told me “big kids = big problems”. But she isn’t big! She is little! She is my baby!! This is the time that a parent’s patience is really tested. You thought the toddler crying in the hall from a drop-down tantrum because you wouldn’t let her stick something in the outlet was testing. This is different. This is one of those trials of a mom that we will all go through and come out the other side…in a decade or so. At least that is what I’m telling myself. This article first appeared on BabyGizmo.com.]]></description>
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