Yesterday, I wrote a blog about how awesome toddlerhood is. (FYI, it’s my favorite age. Ever.) And it got me thinking about the ages I do like and the ones I don’t. And while I haven’t had to parent anyone over the age of 14 yet, I have to honestly say, age eleven is the worst. I mean, it’s terrible. It’s like a light switch, too. That’s awesome 10 year old you had? Yeah, eleven is no bueno. I thought I was the only one who felt that way, but nope. It seems as though all my “veteran” moms heartily agreed.
Here’s my compiled list of why:
- The Attitude. I really could probably stop the list after just this one. The sighs. The talking back (Do 11 year old boys sass? Is it just 11 year old girls?). The chip on their shoulder when I ask them to do ONE THING. JUST ONE. What happened to “do it the first time with a happy heart?” Apparently, no happy hearts are left when you turn 11. They are sullen and snarky hearts now.
- The Smirks. (extension of #1)
- The Smells. At what age do kids use deodorant? At what age do they start caring if they reek? Clearly it’s not age 11.
- The lack of respect.
- They all of a sudden know everything. EVERY. THING.
- The never-ending hunger (of junk food no less).
- The growth spurts.
- The homework load.
- The hormones. (no lie, I heard my son and a good friend discussing what girls lips might feel like. Ok, ok, so I was eavesdropping. Whatever. These convos are funny — and yet, not so funny.)
- The in-between feelings: They’re not teens yet but they’re definitely not little kids either.
- The lack of control — especially with refraining from mass quantities of eye rolling. Again, we go back to#1.
Also, eleven year olds are sometimes just straight up weird. It’s a good thing my kid *is* awesome, so of course I still love him. But gosh, I cannot wait for 12.