The first time I met my stepdaughter she was ten years old with the chubby cheeks of an adorable cherub. On one of our first outings we went to the National Zoo where we took pictures of pandas and watched beavers build a dam.

Now she’s 14 and gets prettier every day. She’s starting to wear make-up and likes bath gels. Her wedge sandals are taller than any heels in my closet. She even owns a mini-skirt.

She’s more independent now. I still drive the carpool to the movies and pick up her friends for sleepovers, but we don’t talk as much as we used to. It seems like we end up in the car together less often. And I miss it.

Actually, I miss her. I miss knowing that carefree and smart girl with spark who never doubted she could conquer the world. Lately it seems like purpose is replaced with attitude and temper. Empathy washed out with snipingly critical words for other kids. And there are parts of her life she doesn’t tell us much about, even though her dad and I persist in asking.

My Mom calls it the mean-ager phase. It’s when an evil spirit possesses the body of the nice sweet child you know and love, absconding with her personality for a year or two. With our gang, it has surfaced in late middle school and usually lasted through the first year of high school.

When I whined that she didn’t go shoe shopping with me last weekend because she was busy with her friends, my husband clucked sympathetically. He’s already been through this with his two sons.

He smiled at me and said, “Honey this is going to be a rough time for you – it is going to be worse for you than for me – she’s becoming more independent and growing up. And the next two years are going to be difficult.” 

I’m the one who sat her down to talk about “girl stuff” after her body began to change. I bought her first real bra. I thought I was ready for her to grow up. But the first onslaught of adolescent waves have me feeling queasy about the whole deal.

My stepdaughter is only half-way through eighth grade. - how am I going to survive another year and a half of this? Will I get so frustrated that I just explode one day in the face of teen turbulence?

But there is hope. She will grow older and this phase will pass. Until then, we’ll keep saying we love her and care about her. I’ll keep praying for her. And I’ll rely on my husband when defiant behavior rears its ugly head. She’ll know we won’t put up with too much attitude or flaunting of the rules.

We’ll be persistent in asking about her day, her friends, her grades, where she’s going and what she’s doing. She’ll know we care – even if she doesn’t acknowledge it. And someday, that carefree girl I remember and adore will be back.

As for me, I’ll be waiting.

Dawn Miller writes a column on life in blended families at thestepfamilylife.com. 
Visit Dawn's blog for a daily dose of life in the blender.
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