Four of my six kids are teenagers. Do you understand the magnitude of that statement? I have FOUR TEENS in my house right now! FOUR! I think I deserve a medal for that. Or a nap. Yes, a nap would be nice. Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids. I absolutely love the goofiness of them, but it’s almost like parenting toddlers all over again. Maybe they no longer melt down if I do something as evil as putting ketchup on their hotdogs, or making them wear shoes when we go to the store, but they certainly have unexplained moodiness and attitudes that occasionally make me wonder if they had lobotomies when I wasn’t looking.
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