Humility and High Blood Pressure...Courtesy of your Teen Daughters

"What the daughter does, the mother did." ~ Jewish proverb

Could that possibly be true? That saying, that proverb?
"What the daughter does, the mother did."
If it is true, then I need to fall on the ground and immediately offer my deepest apologies to my own mother for my teen years.
I feel like it is probably true, you know, especially because it's attributed to being not just any old proverb, but a Jewish proverb. That instantly lends credence to it, don't you think? Much more than if I were to spout something off that I thought was wise. It would just be followed by "German Lutheran proverb" and I don't think it carries as much weight. Unless it's something my Grandma Tillie says, and I always listen to her words of wisdom because that shit is usually SPOT ON.
Anyway, back to my teen daughters...
Right now, I have three of them.
Let that sink in - Three. Teen. Daughters.
Three onsets of puberty. Three sets of drama. Three sets of attitude.
When they were little I would dress them in coordinated Easter dresses and have a professional photographer take adorable photos with real bunnies. My family and friends would ooh and ahh over the photos, then shake their heads knowingly and say, "They're sweet now. Give 'em another 10-12 years."
I secretly thought that this was said by people who didn't know any better. At the very least, they didn't know ME. They didn't know I would parent with a stern but loving hand and my daughters would always look to me for guidance and advice.
Jesus, I must have been totally high.
I had no idea that not only would they openly laugh at helpful suggestions I gave, they would actually perfect their own teenage response to me: Snarl and scoff, followed by an immediate eye roll. This move has been made so efficient it's usually completed in less than a second. And for good measure, sometimes they throw in an extra treat. It's called Mocking. And they love to do it when it's two or three against one (me).
Whatever, I quit worrying what 13 year old girls thought of me once I turned 14.
But as a parent, sometimes their words have the ability to not only humble me, but make my blood pressure skyrocket.
For instance, a few weeks ago I took two of my teen daughters out of town on a weekend away. I was actually driving my 16 year old to spend time with her long distance boyfriend. Pretty cool of me, right? I would think that would earn me some points.
Before we left, I asked what I should pick up from the store.
"Tampons," one replied. "Right," the other one agreed. "And get the slender or regular sized ones for us. We don't have super sized big vaginas like you do."
At that, they both started laughing and my left eye started twitching uncontrollably.
"Oh yeah?" I replied. "Just wait until you have four kids and we'll see what size you need then. And for the last time, it's about absorbency, and NOT the size of your hoo-ha."
"Ok, whatever Mom."
I felt myself getting sucked into a high school argument. "And just so you know, I had a surgery after your brother was born because he was 10 pounds and now it's like brand new down there."
"Ack! Quit talking about your vagina."
"Whatever, you little shits brought it up."
So you see how easy it is to get humbled and mortified by these amazingly beautiful creatures? The same girls who have no problem taking videos on the sly of me dancing or yelling and then sending them out via Snapchat (all to hilarious responses from their friends), are the same sweet and loving creatures I will occasionally get a glimpse of. They'll ask me to play with their hair or they'll lay their head in my lap. Sometimes they're quiet, sometimes they're talkative. Sometimes they show their vulnerability and their fears. Sometimes they ask me questions or confide things to me. Sometimes they just want to hear what I have to say about my thoughts about the scary things going on in the world.
The bombings.
The plight of all those refugees.
The unknown future.
Sometimes I just look at them and am rendered speechless by how beautiful they are, how funny and witty and generous with others they are (just not always with me).
I know I can be witty and sarcastic and when I'm on a roll...I can be pretty damn funny sometimes. I should be happy and proud that I'm raising teen daughters who have no problem saying what's on their minds. This is what we want, right?
"What the daughter does, the mother did."
At this point I should just be eternally grateful they haven't followed my footsteps and thrown such incredibly big high school parties when my parents were gone that I STILL can't believe we didn't all end up in jail.
Sorry, Mom.
And to my daughters with no filters and no fear of offending me, you're lucky me and my super big vagina are so forgiving.