Where is the warranty?

I love her. I do. Never doubt it. But something is up with Third that is making her damn hard to like. She is as close to being out of control as a 12 year old can get, and I am thiiiiiiis close to losing it. Seriously.

She is way -- WAY -- too old for magical thinking, so what is UP with her latest nonsense? I asked her almost every single day of summer vacation to do her summer reading. I READ HER THE FIRST SEVEN OR EIGHT CHAPTERS of the book. I offered to get it for her on tape....in short, I tried everything. Tomorrow is her test on the book, and it's not done. Not no way, not no how. She was supposed to come read it today at my work, in a quiet study carrel. She went to a friend's house instead, and lied and told the mom I said she could. I'm letting her swing. I hope they throw the book (heh) at her. I hope she flunks. I really do. I have told that child about actions having consequences from the day her feet hit the ground, and I swear to Gawd if the school let's her off, fearing the skew to their MCAS results I will knee cap someone.

Last month she told the med evaluation lady that she was just not sure she could take medicine, (as both her therapist AND her pediatrician suggested) because I get drunk every night and thus could not be trusted to dose the meds properly. She told her therapist I beat her when she doesn't do her chores. She told me her father's partner raised his hand to her and that her father hit her repeatedly when they were on vacation.

One of these days she is going to say something like that to the wrong burdened reporter, and all hell will rain down on her head, and what then? I have tried to explain this to her. Every one has. What is going on in that brain of hers?

I am sorrier than she is that her dad and I split up. I am sorry she has some special needs that make it harder for her to learn. I am sorry she has a late birthday and I didn't know she was going to turn out to have learning issues so I let her start kindergarten at 5 instead of holding her back a year. I am sorry for all the things she claims I do that ruin her and cause her to be sure to fail. I am beyond sorry that I don't have a co-parent of ANY weight or merit to spell me when I just need a break.

I am sorry that I don't have a magic wand to wave it all away. Mostly though, I am sorry she has a human for a mother. I get tired, I don't always have excellent parenting replies at the ready, and sometimes I really just wish she would shut the hell UP already, and go to sleep in her own bed and stop with the demands, demands, demands, an unquenchable endless squawking baby bird, mouth open, never, ever filled. I am sorry for the voice in my head that says "you created Veruca, Mrs. Salt!" I am sorry I don't know how to best help my little girl every time she needs my help.

I am sorry, because she is EXHAUSTING me, and I am almost out of patience.

What happens when it's really gone?