That Moment You Realize It

I'm the middle child and one of three kids in my family.  I like to think that I was generally a "good kid".  I didn't really get into trouble.  I got decent grades.  I had nice friends.

Around the age of 16, I started to have an "opinion" about things.  I never really considered my mom as my "best friend" but we got along OK.  As I grew into my wise teenage years, there were things about my life that I clearly knew more about.

And, duh!  What teenage girl doesn't?!

Throughout my teens and early twenties when I was still living at home, my mom and I would have arguments.  We would "butt heads", if you will.  We're both pretty opinionated individuals and I didn't take kindly to someone telling me the better way to do something. 

At the time, it was just annoying.  Looking back, I realize that my mom wasn't in a very good place.  She was unhappily married to my stepfather, eventually went through a divorce and somehow during that transition she lost her independence in a way.  She became needier.  She became lonely. 

I wasn't aware enough to notice.  Her attempts to spend time with me were misunderstood - I just wanted to go out with my friends to clubs and she would yell at me for going out all of the time.   I remember one fight in particular when she refused to let me use the car.  I still remember the words I yelled as I walked out the door. 

"I'm sorry you're so unhappy but it's not my job to be your friend.  I'm not responsible for your happiness".  Nice, huh?

I walked 5 miles to my friend's house just to prove that she couldn't keep me home.

I suppose everyone has different sides to their personality.  That's my "F*** You" side.  I don't take kindly to people telling me I can't do something.

When we grow up and have children of our own, we bask in the glow of people telling us how much our kids resemble us or have the same expressions as us. 

This week, I had an "Ah ha" moment.

All of the hell that I caused my mother is coming back threefold.  Oh yes.

Kendall is ME and she has an "F*** you" side. 

We've had 3 showdowns at the dinner table this week.  I don't know if she misses my husband or if she's just being a priss.  The first night, she barely ate any dinner.  The second night, she came to the table, looked at her plate and said, "I don't like that" and walked away. 

Whoa Ho, young lady!

That night, I still made her sit at the dinner table with Chris and I.  She sat in her chair defiantly and didn't touch a thing on her plate. 

Last night, she refused to come to the table at all.  I asked twice, told her I was counting to three and then I grabbed her off the couch and put her in her bedroom.

She sat upstairs screaming and crying while Chris & I ate dinner. 

I just don't know what else to do.  I can't force her to eat dinner and I refuse to become a short order cook.  She needs to eat what I make.  I don't make extravagant meals and I usually try to include at least one thing they like.

Tonight, I treated them to Happy Meals.  What do you think she did?  

She was the first one at the table and ate every single bite.  WTF?

So, either I'm a really shitty cook or she's testing me.  I asked why she ate all of her Happy Meal but she won't eat the dinners I cook and she said, "That's not dinner.  It's a Happy Meal". 

Maybe tomorrow night I'll just put dinner in a cardboard box and dress like Ronald McDonald?