Does Anyone Want an 8-year Old Girl, Cheap? (Joking, sort of)

I am at my wit’s end. The rope is too frayed to tie a knot. This is Mother’s Day weekend, and yet, I’m nearly ready to give up my eldest for adoption, even though I love her so much it hurts. Maybe that’s why I’m so disappointed. Hurt. Saddened. Angry.

It seems she cannot say anything to me or her sister without shrieking it. The youngest takes her a small toy and asks, “Is this mine, or yours?” The oldest screams, “It’s MINE. PUT IT BACK WHERE YOU FOUND IT!!” I say to her, “I want your room clean before you play with anyone. I allowed it to go untouched this week because you were being tested at school, but now I want you to clean it, please.” She yells, “IT’S MESSY BECAUSE OF EMILY. SHE ALWAYS MESSES IT UP AFTER I CLEAN IT! IT’S NOT MY FAULT!!” She whines and yells (simultaneously—a special talent, I think), “I’M HUNGRY, CAN’T YOU MAKE A SNACK FOR ME??” I told her that because she did not talk to me respectfully, nor has she been nice at all to her sister, that she can make her own snack. She even screamed at the dog. No wonder he wouldn’t come to her.

Yes, she’s had a tough week. Yes, she’s only eight. But don’t I deserve some respect as her mother? Don’t I deserve to have one daughter that actually will do what I ask, especially since I don’t ask too much to begin with? What is too hard about setting the table for dinner? What is too challenging about putting the clean eating utensils away, and the dirty ones in the dishwasher? What’s so awfully bad about putting her own clothes away, after they’ve been washed, dried, and folded or hung?

I’m tired. I don’t want to play this game anymore. I think I’ll do what my three-year old does. I’ll take my toys and go home. Oh, wait. I am home.

What’s a mom to do?