“Teenagers,” sighed one school mum. “I just want to punch Amy in the face,” snarled the other. The conversations you walk into sometimes … I’d just popped over to say hello to Sprog 2’s kindy teacher in the assembly hall and landed in the middle of a rant from some mums of ex-class members. “You can’t punch them in the face, can you?” Amy’s mum continued. Sprog 2’s kindy teacher looked a little flummoxed. “Probably not a good idea,” I offered. “You’re right,” Amy’s mum agreed. “I’ll get one of the younger kids to do it for me.” Wow, puberty just keeps sounding better and better. Can’t wait. Thankfully I’m still wading through pre-puberty which, while occasionally challenging, doesn’t make me want to punch anyone in the face. (Well, I did hit Sprog 1 once, you may recall. It was more of an upper-arm cuff. I followed the cuff with the words, “Don’t hit your sister.” Quite the mixed message.) It must be hard for Sprog 2’s kindy teacher to reconcile the cute little five-year-olds she once taught with the 15-year-old terrors those mothers were describing. Eventually, the grim mums moved on and so did the conversation. Sprog 2’s kindy teacher told me about her 23-year-old son, who’s at Mount Everest, attempting to enter the Guinness Book Of Records by playing totem tennis at the highest altitute ever. She didn’t sound like she wanted to punch him, just worried … and mildly annoyed about him trying to show her pictures of “amazing” avalanches on the computer before he left. That’s the scary thing about the post-teen years. They can do whatever they like, no matter how dangerous, and you can’t stop them. Sprog 1 and 2 probably won’t want to play totem tennis on Mount Everest. (I may have to rethink that totem tennis set I got Sprog 2 for Christmas.) They probably will want to go to Schoolies week. The windows are going to rattle during that argument. Right now, I’m going to focus on holding them close, protecting them from harm … and wishing the years didn’t fly by so quickly.
DIET TRANSGRESSIONS: Quiche for breakfast. The teachers put on a special spread for the volunteer mums. It would have been rude to refuse. And then there were a few mouthfuls of Husband’s dessert at our weekly Relationship Rehab lunch. Oh, and a rice cracker. Not an ideal outcome.
TONIGHT’S DINNER: Teppanyaki for my sister’s birthday. I could get quite used to this not-cooking-all-week thing.
housegoeshome 
You are so right, not looking forward to teenage and exploring adulthood years. To many horror stories to keep you worried all night. It is such a long time to wait between peaceful pre-teen and peaceful mid-thirties!!