I had a boss that used to offer the following parenting advice:
“When the kid is about 11, put them in a barrel and nail it shut. When they’re 16, plug the air hole”
He was kidding. I think. Apparently single-handedly raising three teenagers does a number on one’s sanity.
But I’d laugh and secretly think to myself “Nah, TheKid and I won’t have the issues I hear most parents complain about.”
Can I borrow someone’s time machine? I’d like to go back and b*tch slap that smug young mother.
In the past few months my sweet, loving little boy has began to morph into this eye rolling, huffing, monosyllabic brat. Our mornings always begin with the same routine in which I start out trying to coax him out of bed gently and finally resort to threatening his comfort with ice water. Considering my personal antipathy towards pre-noon hours, I try to be sympathetic. Really. I do. But today as I’m desperately trying to find into which nook or cranny the cat has batted my keys, TheKid comes stomping out and collapses in a heap on the couch. Wearing the exact same clothes from yesterday. And then? He proceeded to ARGUE when told to go change.
“I didn’t play outside. They can’t be too dirty.”
“There’s a big splotch of MUSTARD on your leg. Plus? You were STINKY yesterday. You can’t put stinky clothes back on after you shower.”
“So? (insert long suffering sigh) It’s not dirt.”
I gritted my teeth, took a few deep breaths and then LOVINGLY and PATIENTLY ordered him to go change. I didn’t even comment on the hideous blue camo pants he came out in. No need to reprimand his wardrobe choices just because I never got to dress a baby in the tights with ruffles on the bottom. At least now I don’t have to fight the fashion industry to teach a little girl the difference between looking cute and advertising. Besides, before I left TheKid came over and gave me a big hug and kiss on the cheek with a “Have a good day Mom!”
Maybe I’ll hold off on that barrel for a few more months.
Nadine Said:
on May 1, 2008 at 10:39 am
Ooh, MY kids will never do that
havlow Said:
on May 1, 2008 at 10:44 am
When I was a swim coach I used always remember that the kids up to about the age of 10 thought you were god, from 11-16 you were some jerk and from 17-18 you were the coach that could get them beer.
Yeesh.