This morning I stood in my closet, staring at my clothes. Does this match? Does that match? I yelled at my husband, “Get up and wake your son and put him in the bathtub.” I ironed my son’s blue uniform pants and a white polo shirt for school. My daughter was up at 5:30 a.m. I am so proud of my daughter. She just graduated valedictorian from her eighth-grade class. She has been an honor roll student since she grew beyond smiley faces on her report cards. Porshai is not like I was at 14. I am sparing you, trust me. No adolescent is normal. But my adolescence was really not normal. I stapled my hand just to see how it felt.