Before she left this morning, I hugged Freya and said, “I love you. Please be kind to yourself.”
She just seems so fragile anymore. It makes me sad.
Last night, she wasn’t finishing her dinner, and we got her to admit that she doesn’t care for meat, which we already knew, but it’s even more than that: she thinks she wants to be a vegetarian. And we were like, “Okay that’s fine. You just have to tell us these things. We cannot read your mind. We won’t be mad. Just. Tell. Us. Please. We cannot help you if we don’t know what is going on.”
Last weekend, D’s college bestie stayed with us, and the three of us had a conversation about teenage girls. His daughter is like 15, I believe. Anyway, she is also difficult and moody. She does almost all of the same stuff Frey does. It was interesting to hear his take on it, and to hear how he handles it. D and I both consider him to be a bit of a super dad, so to hear that he is also frustrated made us feel better. Especially since he utilizes a lot of the same strategies we do.
We made her show us her arm last night, and it looks terrible. We asked her why. We asked her what she’s feeling when it happens. We asked lots of things, but always got the same answer: I don’t know. Until I asked: Do you worry a lot about us being mad at you? To which she replied, “Yes.”
I don’t think we are unreasonable or particularly harsh parents. I think we have expectations and standards, as we should, but maybe we need to reevaluate things?
But, on the other hand, maybe we need to keep doing exactly what we are doing. Someone has to parent her. She doesn’t seem to face any consequences to her actions over at her mother’s house. In fact, it sometimes seems like she gets whatever she wants. We should know…we foot a large chunk of those bills.
I’m turning comments off on this post. I don’t want any commentary. Right now I just want to say the thing and move on.