Looked at Power Poles this a.m. Small. Very, very small. I’m sure if I’d had time (and gas money) to drive up and down the coast, I would’ve found some surf somewhere. As it is, I only drove back home. Needed the surf, too, after last night’s interaction with the teenager (the older one). She earned herself my wrath in the afternoon, which turned into one long, ugly battle between us. I have been assured that this sort of thing happens with teenagers, but that knowledge hasn’t lessened the shell-shocked state I’m walking around today. Everything I’ve ever done wrong was thrown in my face last night as an excuse for her bad behavior. (I’ve set such a bad example, you see.) The thing is, I’ve spent 17 years trying to make sure her life is different than mine was growing up, that she had the opportunities, security and community I wish I’d had. If I were perfect, that would’ve been easy, I guess, but I’m not – and my human failings were enumerated repeatedly last night. The years have hardly been easy after all. I think if a list were made of good and bad, we’d come out ahead, though, and so I held firm to my sense that I was in the right – but my heart is bruised. I love her so and yet she angers me beyond belief.

My friend, who has been through this phase with her own daughter, assures me, “This too shall pass.” I hope so. Right now I’m struggling to remember what being lighthearted felt like. I desperately need to get in the water and wash this funk away.