Yesterday was Sophia’s 16th birthday. It was also Cheryl’s graduation from elementary school. What should have been a day of joyful celebration turned into a day of bickering and fighting between Sophia and me. I was very saddened and disappointed by Sophia’s behavior and I am heartbroken that she will always look back at what she perceives as her miserable 16th birthday.  These are the trials and tribulations of being the mother of a teenager.

As I mentioned in my previous post, we had a lovely party for Sophia and 20 of her friends, this past Saturday at the beach.  I went through a lot of effort and expense to throw her party. There was the early morning trip to the beach to reserve a fire ring. Setting up the tables and chairs. Lugging the firewood and coolers full of food. And the very expensive cake. You get the idea. I also bought her a pearl necklace which I was looking forward to giving to her yesterday. Paul and I were also looking forward to giving Cheryl her graduation present; a red Cruiser bicycle. 

I picked up Sophia from school and mentioned to her that we had gotten Cheryl a bike for her graduation. ”You never got me  a gift when I graduated from middle school.” she responded, snidely.

“I didn’t? Sorry. I threw you a party.” I replied.

“Yeah. A party I had to share with Eva.” She snorted back. (Eva graduated from elementary school the same day Sophia graduated from middle school and apparently Sophia has  resented having to share her day with her sister. )

“And she had to share her party with you too. Ever think of that? ” I reasoned back.

“What are we having for dinner?” she demanded.

“Skirt steak. Cheryl requested it for her graduation party.”

“Why did she get to choose? It’s my birthday.”

Since Sophia is a vegetarian and it was her birthday, I conceded that I would go to her favorite Chinese restaurant and get her some vegetarian chow mein.  I’m not unreasonable. I could see her point, but I did remind her, “Remember, Dad got you your favorite pizza for your party.”

When we arrived home, Eva was in the driveway washing her bike. She wanted to get it all ready so she and Cheryl could go bike riding together. Sophia sees this and says, “My bike is all rusty because it was left out in the rain and I’m never riding it again!”  She gets out of the car, slams the door and storms into the house.

There was a lot of subtext going on here. First off, Sophia’s bike tirade was a direct slam to me. You see, when we lived in our old house, before I married Paul, made Sophia move and ruined her life, we had a garage in which we kept our bikes. We don’t have a garage at our new house. We have a covered car port. Before that was built, we stored the bikes under a tarp and it rained all winter and the bikes got a little rusty. Her resentment at my marrying Paul runs very deep and occasionally rears its ugly little head in these explosive outbursts.

I also think Sophia is jealous of Eva and Cheryl’s relationship. Eva and Cheryl are much closer in age, have more in common and let’s face it, Sophia can be a bit of neurotic, high strung little pill sometimes, as she demonstrated yesterday.

I sat in the car pondering my next move, at first wondering how I was going to smooth things over, when I was overcome by my own feelings of resentment and anger toward my ungrateful, petulant teenage daughter. I went into the house,  barged into her room without knocking and stated quite firmly: ” You ungrateful little shit. Your father, Paul and I went through a lot of trouble, not to mention the expense, to throw you that party on Saturday. Do you know how many kids would have killed for a party like that? (Typical mom question, I know.) Furthermore, I got you the most special present I was going to give to you tonight, but I’m not going to now. Why should I? You don’t appreciate anything.” And then, as if my own dear departed mother were channeling her words through my body, I said, “Now you sit in this room young lady and you think about the miserable way you have behaved today. “  To punctuate my words, I slammed the door on my way out.

I handled that well, wouldn’t you say?

Our fight put a damper on the evening and even though I felt justified in my feelings, I wasn’t necessarily proud of the way I handled things and was very sorry that there were such hard feelings between us.

Paul came home from work early and grilled the steak. I managed to get everything else on the table in spite of my dark mood. We gave Cheryl the bike and she was thrilled. Sophia sobbed in her room for hours, refusing to eat, but eventually ventured out to go to Cheryl’s graduation. Our whole family stood up and did the wave when Cheryl got her diploma. Afterward Sophia’s dad came over and we sang, “Happy Birthday” and gave her her presents. She was thrilled with the new The Sims 3 game her dad got her and the Juicy Couture  jacket Eva gave her. She took one look at the pearls and said, “Where am I supposed to wear these?” I bit my tongue and thought to myself, ” I can only hope that someday you have a daughter just like you.”

Later that evening when it was time for bed, Sophia came down with a painful stomachache. It must have been the candy bar she ate for dinner. She  complained of a stitch in her side that felt like a giant gas bubble and if only she could burp, she would feel better. Yes, that’s right readers. I took my 16 year old daughter across my chest and burped her. I had this immediate flashback to when she was a colicky baby and her father and I would have to buckle her into her car seat and drive her around town until she stopped crying. She asked me if I would lie next to her in bed and rub her tummy until she fell asleep. Which I did. Some things never change.