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Fourteen going on thirty
I try to be a good mom
You know I'm always there
But sometimes the answer's no
Though you may not think it's fair
As your mom I strive real hard
Fulfilling wants and needs
But cleaning up after you
Is the dirtiest of deeds
When we have your friends come over
I'd like to hang with you
But being cool at my age
Is not the easiest to do
You're not my baby anymore
You're not an adult either
It seems you're somewhere in between
Actually you're neither
I know I'm not a perfect mom
But I'll spend my whole life trying
I foresee lots of good and bad
And a whole lot of crying
I hate the fact
That you're growing up
It's very hard for me
So I wrote this down on paper
In hopes that you would see
The big girl is wearing make-up
Fourteen going on thirty
My baby is still leaving messes
And keeping her bedroom dirty
I know I can be mean and loud
Believe me you can too
But most of all
I feel love
And very proud of you
I'm not the greatest mom
And you're not the greatest kid
But as we grow together
We'll know as we always should
We worked real hard together
And did the best we could
by Amy White
Read the story behind this poem
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