OMG! WTH! IDK! (Or: Am I really the mother of a teenager?)

Now that summer is here, I am able to spend much more time with my two girls. That is a great thing . . . most of the time. Mostly all this time together has made it even more clear that I am now the mother of a teenager. How did that happen? I still feel like I'm 23- not less than a year shy of 40! It is almost surreal when I find myself in those moments that make me realize we are that much closer to being parents of an adult. For instance: Hannah and Abby (9 years old) have only recently separated into their own rooms. They've shared everything for most of their lives. But last night, it became critically important for Hannah to have privacy while brushing her teeth. As Abby was trying to make her case for getting in the bathroom, I heard, "Can't you understand that I need time to take care of myself now?" Wow. She actually cares about hygiene now. Or on Sunday when I asked the girls to get their rooms ready for our open house. Hannah's room was immaculate. Not only did she do a great job, but then she asked me how she could help me. Excuse me? You want to what? Or today when she helped me with a surprise for a friend by cleaning up and vacuuming the three season room. Of course there are also those moments when she rolls her eyes at me, slams the car door, spends hours in her bed sleeping and/or crying, and just generally tries to prove that her knowledge base is far superior to mine. I look back at it all and wonder where my little two year old is. You know, the one who would put on her slippers, turn on classical music, and "ice skate" around the living room (culminating in the gold medal ceremony of course). The little girl who broke the recliner because she used it as Pride Rock one too many times. The little girl who would look heavenward with those big blue eyes, lift her arms in the air, and sing Jesus Loves Me at the top of her lungs. I know I can't have those days back. And I don't want them back, really. Parenting preschoolers is hard work - but a joy nonetheless. Pretty much like parenting a teenager I imagine. . .