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Note to self: for the days you feel like you're not doing a good job, read this blog post!

This Full House CompleteTwo out of four of my kids are not very happy with me at the moment and -- especially if you have kids who can use both hands and feet to quantify their age -- most parents would be all like...good...it means you are doing your job.

Right.  So, I'll just go ahead and file it under "really sucky aspects of raising teens" and be thankful that I'm not required to submit a work performance assessment or self-evaluation or anything.

Because, all we parents have to do is look at our own kids.

Long story, short (you're welcome!): the really, REALLY challenging part of parenting teenagers -- besides pretending that it doesn't hurt when your own kids begin to question your parenting skills -- is pretending that it doesn't hurt when YOU begin to question YOUR OWN parenting skills.

Old Photos
Middle girl (on left) and oldest going through baby pictures for middle girl's high school yearbook, SERIOUSLY?!?

Recently, I went to investigate all the "SQUEEES" and "D'OOOHS" coming from the back of the house to find our two oldest daughters going through my super-fly photo filing system I came up with soon after my youngest was born -- it's a picnic basket, don't be jealous!

"Here, we thought you'd like to take another look at these!"

Heather's bridging in girl scouts in I don't remember when.
My middle girl's bridging ceremony when she was still in girl scouts, also one of the last times I felt as if I sort of knew what I was doing.

Even longer story, shorter (seriously, I love and respect you guys THAT MUCH!): although I am not that same mom, I sure as heck do NOT feel old enough to have children reminiscing over their youth, dagnabit.

On the other hand, maybe...juuuuuuuuuust maybeeeeeeee...one day they will perhaps also realize their teenage years as being NOT so...you know...bad-ish, either.

Most probably when they start having their own kids (not for a while yet, it's not like I'm rushing them or anything) and then slowly begin to regurgitate motherisms they SWORE they would NEVER repeat and I am only half-kidding, because it's happened to me, too.

My favorite at the moment, being: nothing good could ever come from living in the past, obviously.

On the third hand (don't worry, if you've got kids, you'll grow one soon enough), I could continue to follow my parents lead, remain fallible, spoil my grandkids rotten to the point where they like me better and then good luck convincing them otherwise.

Sounds like a plan, right?!?  Good thing I blogged it.

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