Monday, March 24, 2008


Is it not enough that my skin stretched and pulled to previously unfathomable distances while she grew and sucked all the nutrients from my body?

Is it not enough that I endured 32 hours of back-breaking labor before pushing her out of my vagina unwittingly creating a life with donut pillows and Preparation-H?

Is it not enough that pushing her out of said, once taut, once sexually appealing orifice brought new meaning to the term “loose lips sink ships”?

Is it not enough that while she sucked and squeezed on my raw, cracked nipples, I white-knuckled the glider and stifled my screams in order to provide her with a tranquil, nurturing environment.

Is it not enough that I willingly placed my hands into human excrement to keep her clean and rash free?

Is it not enough that I lost countless hours of precious sleep to feed, burp, and comfort her and that those hours were directly related to the now permanent appearance of bags and dark circles under my eyes?

Is it not enough that despite no longer being able to wear short tops for fear that she will once again compare me to a Sharpei puppy, I still finish off her grilled cheese sandwiches so she won’t experience guilt thinking about the starving children in India?

Is it not enough that I gave up driving a zippy little sports car so I could schlep she and her friends to Pinkberry for what I believe to be a completely foul-tasting, artificial, and non-nutritive treat?

Is it not enough that I bury my deep hatred of the claustrophic, carbon-copy, monotony of shopping malls so I can waste spend my time miming a coat hanger while she tries on clothes.


Apparently I still have not given everything I have to give because even though every shirt in my closet now resides in hers, and even though my shoes keep finding their way onto her feet, she still comes to my closet to BORROW whatever the hell I’ve got left!

And apparently, though she is highly intelligent, she is somehow not smart enough to conceal her tracks. Lights left on, her clothing abandoned and twisted into painful contortions on my floor, a tell-tale trail of hairbands, socks, ribbons. More likely she just doesn’t care - which is worse.

I could let my closet inventory continue to shrink until there's nothing left for her pre-adolescent clepto fingers to grab but that means I'll be carpooling the kids to Pinkberry bare-ass naked. (Just writing that gave me the shivers.)

I'd love to see the glass half-full on this one. To go out and use this opportunity to buy myself some pretty new things. But I know if I do she'll be back in my closet, like a roach, feeding off delicious new treats.

I could try to hide my new loot but who am I kidding? She sees all. I can't get away with a small clump of mascara on my lashes.

Some of you are probably thinking, "Just buy her her own clothes and shoes and she'll leave you alone." To you I answer, "You must not have a pre-pubescent daughter." Been there, done that. As much as I attempt to reason, threaten, and demand "enough is enough" those words are not in her middle-school level vocabulary. She just smiles her pretty smile and talks her sweet talk and before I know it I'm down another pair of sandals.

I love my daughter, truly I do. She's a kind person, sensitive, and strong, and I have faith she will continue on that path. But as far as my closet goes, I want her outta there!

Tomorrow I'm calling a locksmith.


cpckqueen said...

those sounded like a new set of plagues for passover!!!

Dawn said...

Wow! I'm so sorry your boundaries are being violated, but you are the very first person ever who has actually made me feel good about only having sons.

I spend some time almost every day mourning the fact that I will never have a daughter, but when I see how it might play out through your eyes, I somehow find myself, for the first time ever, breathing a sigh of relief.

Greg said...

I am a New York Times bestselling author working on a new book about mother-daughter relationships and thought you might want to contribute. Please visit my page for details about submitting stories for Mom's Little Angel.

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InTheFastLane said...

Hee, Hee...I am not laughing at you, really. I am laughing with you, as I watch my 13 year old go to school in a pair of sneakers that used to belong to me.

mah-meeee said...

oh man, now i totally feel bad. i think i used to 'borrow' everything from my mom. i felt that what belongs to her must belong to me.

however now that i have two girls of my own, i already told my hubby that everything of mine will eventually 'be theirs' anyway. so i am ready...

Manic Mommy said...

Welcome home. Vacation's over.

MsBeHaven said...

As the mom of three children, a boy now 27, a girl now 26, and a boy 20; we have had a saying in our house for years about our daughter (still applies even though she's married, has kids and no longer lives at home):

"She's got things of mine, too!!"

It's GOT to be that since of entitlement. "If Mom bought it, it must be OURS". lol

merlotmom said...

To msbehaven,
Great! Thanks for letting me know I have a lifetime of sticky fingers to look forward to!

Jan said...

I have two sons and one daughter. I can say with complete conviction that I'd take a teenage son over a teenage daughter ANY day of the week.

Oh, and just so you know - my daughter, who is now 21, recently did the adult child "yo-yo" and moved back home "temporarily" (uh-huh...and I'm Grace Kelly). Yesterday she went to look for a job, sailing blithely through the door WEARING ONE OF MY SHIRTS.

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