Day Two Hundred Ninety-Eight

I realize I sound like a broken record, but I am continuously amazed at how very different the girls are. I've known it since Mila was old enough to glare with disapproval that she is an ENTIRELY different human than Alexis.

They're both pretty fantastic in thier own ways, but I guarantee only one of them is going to bring me to tears during the teen years.

It's not Alexis.

In 15 days, Alexis will turn 15 years old. There is still plenty of time for her to decide that I am the dumbest human on earth. She certainly has her moments, but overall, she's a really good kid and a surprisingly pleasant teen. A good part of it is that she walks with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She worries far too much what people think, and my opinion is very highly regarded from where she's sitting.

That is why she can't break rules, at least not without feeling awful about it for months afterwards.

And then there's Mila.

A free spirit who delivers a party to every room she enters, Mila really only cares about getting what she wants. My opinion is irrelevant because she has her own. Period.

That's how it started. Mila had an opinion about dessert and she was ready to skip right on over dinner to get to it. It didn't matter what was on her plate, she wanted a brownie. The end. And so, it was a battle. I kept telling her she had to finish her very tiny biscuit (truly, it was a reasonable request - I am not a member of the "clean your plate" club, but I am a member of the "eat at least something" club). She kept arguing that she was full. I'd immediately retorted that if she was too full to eat her dinner, she was too full for dessert and around and around we went.

I was not willing to back down. Mila needed to eat her literal two bites of biscuit.

Eventually she stopped arguing and grew quiet. And then, she declared that she was done. I glanced at her plate and confirmed the status of her biscuit. It was gone, so I reached across the table to hand her a brownie.

Mila legit opened up her tiny balled fist, dropped the biscuit SHE HAD NOT FINISHED AFTER ALL on her plate, and reached for the brownie. She seriously was stunned that I noticed her little shenanigans and even more stunned that I was OH HELL NO about the brownie.

There was no guilt, though. Just annoyance and frustration.

The teen years are going to be ROUGH.