Happy holidays.

We drove through Roy Rogers one Christmas Eve after worship to get our then kindergartner some sustenance for the journey south to Mimi and Poppy's.  I paid at the window with a "Merry Christmas!" to the poor soul working that night, and a sweet little voice from the back seat fussed at me.  "Try Happy Holidays, Mommy.  He might not be Christmas.  He might be Hanukah."

This little love is still speaking her mind.  I don't want to shut her down but I sure do wish I could shut her up sometimes.  

Parenting *teens* is not for the faint of heart.  They see through all of the labels and masks and they speak their truth.  I saw/see through the labels and masks but I have never, ever felt comfortable speaking my truth.  And really, should one speak every truth one intuitively understands?  I mean isn't truth for me different at a certain level from truth for you?  Unless we are accepting certain universal truths.  And if we are, then respect for others must be high on that list.  Ain't no way back talk is going to be tolerated in this house.

Are you confused?  Because I am.  And exhausted.  Parenting *teens* is not for the faint of heart.  

Kevin Leman has convinced me that raising this species, *teens*, is pretty much like raising toddlers.    <<And yes, it does help to have both in the household at the same time.  The similarities are striking.>>  Don't get emotionally involved.  It's not about you.  It's about raising decent human beings.  Taking away cell phones works almost all of the time.  More yoga for mama is a very good thing.  

So, pardon me while I go pour (another) glass of wine.  It's been a long weekend.  Don't judge.  

Happy holidays, y'all.