*That* Attitude

The past few weeks, we've been noticing a change in Sidney's attitude. The fact being: she has an attitude. The venom that comes out her mouth sometimes is unreal; she's four and yet somehow managed to spit her words like an adult. She's got the whole "smartass" thing down to a science.

And part of me wants to pull her up by her hair and spank her 'til the cows come home; the other part of me wants to burst out laughing, because hello, you're four years old. 

Usually, I stern-talk and remind her that's not the way to speak to others. Justin has a more "immediate punishment" kind of approach. Either way, we both know we're so in for it. The teenage years are going to be a living hell if the preschool years are any indication. 

I like to think I was a mild teenager. I didn't sneak out or do anything too crazy or stupid. I mean, of course I had my fair share of shenanigans and hoodwinks. I did enough dumb things to have a completely normal childhood, and I have a few stories of my own to tell. But still, I was nothing compared to others, compared to what I know I could've been. Even being an only child, I was still mild sauce. 

I can only hope my kids are like me; they do a few silly things, but mostly their actions just become fodder for silly old stories to be shared by their mother at every party a million times over (yes, Mom, I know you still get intense enjoyment out of the "alcohol whispered on the answering machine" story) - I can't wait to embarrass my kids and relive their so-called "glory days" for them even when they'd honestly rather forget them!

And I'm sure there will be plenty of those moments between me and my daughters, the same moments I had with my Mom. You know, the ones where they hide out in their rooms, fuming mad, blaring Kelly Osbourne's "Shut Up"** full volume, hating my guts, writing angry things in their journal, promising to be mad forever, getting over it twenty minutes later, asking Mom to borrow the car, saying 'I'm sorry' by washing the dishes, promising never to do that thing that made Mom made in the first place ever again?

Those moments. Glory days. 

**Still one of my favorite songs to listen to when I'm pissed. At anyone, not just my Mom.