The number one rule to mothering a teenage daughter should be to keep a stash of red Lindor milk chocolate balls hidden in various places throughout the house. Always.
Sometimes, when my teenage daughter is having yet another most desperate moment of her life, the image of me hugging a toilet bowl after my first college party flashes before me and instead of consoling her, I find myself whispering, “Sweetheart, it will only get worse.” It usually only takes one of her adolescent glares to snap me back into Mama bakes a damn good chocolate chip cookie mode, where I remind her to count lil guy’s pimples the next time she sees him. And all will be well.
As if living one adolescent period of my life wasn’t enough, I now get to live my daughter’s. The extremely good news is that she’s much better at the drama than I ever was, which isn’t saying much. I remember my own Mom nagging, “Why are you so insecure? You should be so confident with all you have going for you!” Self-confidence is not an accumulation of successes, it’s an issue of how many times you smash your face against the wall, fall to the ground in desperation, and after crying for a decent amount of time, finally get back up to take on the next round of life vs. YOU. The more times you rise, the more confident you become. At 14 years old, confidence is still in the smash your face phase.