The View From A Slightly Twisted Angle

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Dripping With Estrogen

on August 9, 2012

A friend had a baby girl a few months ago so I bought a gift. The card I chose said, “Thank heaven for baby girls” on the outside. The inside read “because if they were born as  teenagers we’d leave them at the hospital.”  Funny? Yes. But also true.  We’ve had a few too many “girls only” days at our house of late.  I’m beginning to wonder which of us is going to survive.  Don’t get me wrong: I love my daughters with all my heart and enjoy them.  There is nothing like the relationship between a mother and her daughter.  When we were waiting for our oldest daughter to FINALLY arrive and didn’t know whether she was going to be a boy or a girl I remember my mother saying to me, “I hope it’s a girl.  Every woman needs a daughter because there is just something extra special about it.”   She was right.  Our little late arriving red headed bundle of joy changed my life.  Three years later the next red headed bundle of joy (and ENERGY) did the same. What my mother didn’t tell me was that once those adorable baby girls turned into teenagers and their hormones kicked in I would want to run away from home.  It isn’t like she didn’t know that.  She survived my sister and I. Perhaps she figured that was a “need to know” thing and that I didn’t need to know that bit of information right then.  Maybe she was afraid I would disappear and leave them with her. It could just be that she was waiting with joyous anticipation to watch my girls give me the same hard time I gave her.  That would be fair after all.  Whatever the reason she didn’t tell me that teenage girls are a trail some days I will say that my respect level for my mother has risen exponentially. The fact that I’m still alive amazes me. Of course my mother was right. I love having daughters.   It is cool having daughters and for the most part my girls are a lot of fun. I am so thankful for my girls and the relationship we have. Since they have both become teenagers however, there are days I would just rather ship them off and be thankful for them from a distance for a while.  Like this week.

There are studies which show that when you have a group of women who live together for a long period of time eventually their natural biorhythms “sync”.  I can tell you this is true for the most part. While that sounds simpler, you know, “Get it all over at once”, I can assure you that sometimes it is not. Sometimes I would much rather put up with one grumpy female at a time.  It would probably be much easier on the males in our house as well.  There are times when either son or my husband will look at me with the, ‘what is wrong with her?’ look on his face.  Like I could explain it.  I don’t even get it myself and I AM a girl. Now take that times three.  Multiple females with raging hormones at the same time is kind of like a swarm of bees. Stay away and you are going to be ok. Get to close or, well, look at us wrong, and you better be prepared to run. Usually my swarm is pretty well contained and not dangerous but we go through a cycle (pun only partially intended) every few months where there is going to be an explosion.  

I can usually tell when we are headed to an explosion by the amount and kind of bickering my girls are doing.   My kids all good naturedly pick on each other all the time.   That could be considered bickering in other places but at our house that is normal.  It’s more like “bantering” and is harmless because everyone is usually laughing through it.  When the girls do it my husband says “my chicks are clucking”. Cute. It’s when the chicks start turning into cats and the bickering gets less good natured I begin to know a storm is brewing on the horizon.  I can usually divert the storm damage by issuing a weather warning.  Something like, “You two need to stop.” or “I don’t like the direction this is headed.”  One day last winter after an unusually hormone charged bicker-fest morning I decided to post this sign above the door that leads from their bedrooms:

Yep. I’d had it that day and needed to remind them that I, their tired and also hormonal mother, would no longer listen to their snipping.  It’s kind of like Bill Cosby says, “Parents are not interested in justice. We want quiet.”  So true.  The sign actually helped for quite a while really. Until this week. 

This week when all the men of the house are gone and our walls are literally dripping with estrogen. (Which may explain why all the men are gone.) This week when the bicker-fest has been louder than normal. This week when finally the swarm attacked itself. I was preparing for bed the other night when I could faintly hear my husband’s little chicks starting to cluck louder. Then suddenly I heard the 17-year-old chick, who is much like me and hardly ever raises her voice, yell, “I am not ARGUING.”  14-year-old  chick yelled back, “YES! You ARE!”  Ok. Seriously? They are arguing about arguing? Really? Time for Mother Hen intervention.  “HEY!” I yelled from my room. (I did just mention that I almost never yell – right?)  17-year-old chick/cat walks down the hall rolling her eyes, “Mom…” “Ah.” I stopped her. “But….” “AH!” I put up my hand in a “stop sign” to cut her off this time.  Pulling her back into the fighting arena I said, “I don’t know what  you are fighting about and I don’t care.  I don’t know who started it and I don’t care. I know you are both hormonal and I don’t care. I just know that it WILL stop now or I will unleash my Mother hormones all over you both.  You do realize that I have had YEARS to develop mine and they could kill you right?”  Both girls looked at me with that ‘Oh no we’ve pushed the old woman over the edge’ look and the older one wisely and quietly went upstairs to her room. I went back to my room and texted my husband.

“WAAAAAYYYY too many teenage hormones in this house. Someone is going to die.”

His reply: “Light a match, throw it, and then lock yourself into our bedroom”

He could joke because he was safely 100 miles away. I continued to prepare for bed and in the middle of brushing my teeth it occurred to me: If I was locked in the bedroom I too would perish in the fire.  Was that what my husband was driving at? Hmmmm…..  Can’t say that I would blame him.

Things have begun to even out since that evening and our home is about back to normal….whatever that is.  My husband and youngest son return home tonight and their injection of testosterone to the mix should help. Besides: my girls are always much better behaved when their Daddy is home.  It’s their mother they are trying to kill…..


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