Preteens....Tweens....Does it get any easier?

So, I have come to the conclusion that my prepubescent daughter is going to drive me crazy. Now, don't get me wrong, she is actually a good child. She is A&B Honor Roll, Show Choir, Cheerleader, Gifted Classes, and has a great group of friends. The problem lies when this sweet, honestly good child turns. She turns in to a different child. She becomes demonic.
It is always about something that is random and not my fault. For example, I hear a loud BAM, I turn around and she had ran in to this antique table I have in between the living room and the kitchen. No big deal, right? Oh heck no! It was as if I had taken this table and slammed it down on her. I was no where near the scene of the crime. It went on and on and on. I try to be the better person and calmly discuss the situation. Make her know that I am not going to flip that switch. I am not going to get dramatic. She knows. She knows that it is not over until I break. She is playing me. She knows. She is Liam Neeson. She has skills. 

Now, I have learned that the only way to get past this situation is to play the game. I have read other mother blogs about their tween daughters and how to handle the PMS type behavior. No help from what I have seen. Not that it is not out there, but time is not available in this moment. Just a group of mothers with the same situation. I do not have time to Kumbaya with my child. I have two others that are waiting in the background. Motherhood is not a Disney movie. My daughter is not Ramona or Beezus. My family is not the Duncan family from Good Luck Charlie. 

Here we go. Game time. The game is that I have to get mad. I have to break. I have to change in to a crazy person. I explain in an adult voice that this is not right. We then go in to a dance. She screams, I calmly speak. She cries, I get louder. This happens two times maybe. She shuts down, then I hit nuclear. I have lost. She cries, because how dare I even insinuate that she is anything other than awesome. She cries and she cries. I start to feel horrible. I am a troll. I am green with warts. I have been beaten. Liam has broken me down. 

Silent treatment for a bit, then she "wants me". She wants me to love on her. She has to be near me. She has to be with her mommy. She resorts back to the age she should be acting. She is eleven. She is NOT thirteen. She is NOT a teen. This is too early. This is not cool. The end is typical. I tell her I love her and I want her to be a sweeter and more respectful child. I am the mother. I am the end all, be all. She loves me, we hug. The end. Yes, all dramatic and crazy to end in such a simple way. I have at least 3 weeks until the next break down. 

I want to think that this will get easier, but I am doubting that. Considering that she has not crossed that time in her life, this is only the beginning. I have one more daughter and a son. I have to brush up on my skills. Or are there any. Who knows. Survival is the answer. 

Until next time......pray for me, as I will for you. Tweens.....who knew?