My 4-Year-Old Teenager

My Bella.

What a handful that girl is. She is just the cutest thing in the world - for the most part. Last night? Not so much.

While Daddy was watching football, Bella and I were upstairs hanging out in the master bedroom. One too many times Bella "accidentally" kicked me. When I had reached my limit, I sent her to her room. No yelling, just a firm, "Bella, you need to go to your room."

As she was walking away with her head down and her feet stomping, she said, "I wish I didn't live in this house!"

My ears must have deceived me. Little girls don't say that! This is teenager crap. I should have eight more years to prepare for that kind of stuff! What could I have mistaken her sentence for? "I wish I didn't lick a mouse"? That was more feasible since kids do weird things. But I knew I hadn't misheard.

I called Bella back into my room and said, "Bella, what did you say?"


Without an ounce of fear or humility, Bella once again repeated, "I wish I didn't live in this house."

The mix of anger and hurt were competing within me. I couldn't very well cry in front of her, so I told her to go back to her room and pack up her things if she wanted to live somewhere else. To my surprise, she walked away without a fuss. After a couple of minutes, I walked into her room to find her laying on her bed. I repeated that she needed to find another place to live if she didn't want to live in my house. She still wasn't scared or sorry. I told her to tell her dad she was leaving.


At this point, Bella knew that I meant business. As she was walking down the stairs, she started crying saying that she didn't want to leave. After a talking to from her dad, she apologized and suddenly became my precious little child again.


This was all in a span of 20 minutes. She is only four. Hot damn, being a parent is hard.