If you do not want to hear about the vagaries of raising teenagers, by all means please stop reading. But I'm going to go on a little rant, vent a bit, and get this out of my system before I hurt someone. And then I will ask for advice. I submit the following:
Exhibit A
For the Precious Daughters, school is their job. That is their main focus. We have decreed it so. As such, we do not expect very much from them around the house. A few daily chores, the dishes after dinner, a load or two of laundry every week (their own, God forbid we'd ask more) . And for the love of all that is holy KEEP THEIR ROOMS CLEAN. This is not a space mucked up by other people. They each have a room of their own. So why? WHY? is it that the beds are not made? The clothes not hung up? The laundry not put away? The trash cans over flowing? The closet doors gaping open?
Exhibit B
The Precious Daughters are academically excellent. They don't party. They have nice friends. They work their plans around our family dinners. Their extracurricular activities include, but are not limited to, debate, choir, robotics, recreational volleyball & basketball, and teaching CCD. They work part-time jobs and don't ask us for money beyond their monthly allowance. (Which ain't much folks!) They don't miss curfew. They tell us they love us at least once a day.
So tell me people; bring down the hammer or cut them some slack? Because seriously? My ass is killing me.
Showing posts with label Mean Mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mean Mother. Show all posts
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
She’s Lost that Loving Feeling
Precious Oldest broke up with Boyfriend over the weekend. I didn’t expect him to make it through the summer, much less this far into the school year. From the start he was much more smitten; and knowing my girls as I do, I recognized that this was not a good omen for the Boy.
But damn it people, he’s been hanging for around eight or so months now. And even though he started out as just Prom Date, and even though I try not to get attached, its hard. He’s a nice kid, academically excellent, easygoing. He treated Precious Oldest exactly as you would want a boy to treat your daughter; kindly, thoughtfully, with respect, with humor, and with copious compliments to her mother’s cooking.
When Oldest called to tell me the news I may have been less than supportive. I have may have blurted out something along the lines of “Poor Boyfriend! Do you think there’s any way you’ll get back together?” I know, Meanest Mother awards all over the place yet again. But my mind flashed on this gentle boy getting his heart handed to him. (Let’s just say I could empathize.) The fact that his infatuation caused the “claustrophobia” that led to the breakup barely entered my consciousness during that phone conversation.
The next morning, standing in the shower, I realized I hadn’t acknowledged Precious Oldest’s feelings about the matter much at all. She was upset and I was worried about some boy? He was not the first and is surely not the last! So I called her first thing to apologize for sounding less than sympathetic to her pain. She said it was hard. She said her stomach still hurt. She said he was very upset. (Uh yeah, excluding mine, she doesn’t like to hurt other people’s feelings.) She said thank you for listening.
And I? Silently thanked God for not being a teenager any more. Because even if you are the one doing the heart breaking? Its heartbreaking.
But damn it people, he’s been hanging for around eight or so months now. And even though he started out as just Prom Date, and even though I try not to get attached, its hard. He’s a nice kid, academically excellent, easygoing. He treated Precious Oldest exactly as you would want a boy to treat your daughter; kindly, thoughtfully, with respect, with humor, and with copious compliments to her mother’s cooking.
When Oldest called to tell me the news I may have been less than supportive. I have may have blurted out something along the lines of “Poor Boyfriend! Do you think there’s any way you’ll get back together?” I know, Meanest Mother awards all over the place yet again. But my mind flashed on this gentle boy getting his heart handed to him. (Let’s just say I could empathize.) The fact that his infatuation caused the “claustrophobia” that led to the breakup barely entered my consciousness during that phone conversation.
The next morning, standing in the shower, I realized I hadn’t acknowledged Precious Oldest’s feelings about the matter much at all. She was upset and I was worried about some boy? He was not the first and is surely not the last! So I called her first thing to apologize for sounding less than sympathetic to her pain. She said it was hard. She said her stomach still hurt. She said he was very upset. (Uh yeah, excluding mine, she doesn’t like to hurt other people’s feelings.) She said thank you for listening.
And I? Silently thanked God for not being a teenager any more. Because even if you are the one doing the heart breaking? Its heartbreaking.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Meanest Mother Award # 362
Several weeks ago Precious Youngest was invited by boy #1 to Homecoming at the all boys school in these parts. Out we went to find a dress. This is not a simple thing. So many considerations. Long or Short? Black or Color? Throw in that Precious Youngest remembers every dress she’s ever worn, and does not want to wear anything remotely similar… GAAHH!! And yet? Many miles later …success!
Yesterday boy # 2 who attends her school asked her to their Homecoming, still a month away. And I'm thinking to myself; two different schools, two different boys, little overlap between the two groups. Can you guess the first comment out of my mouth? “Oh, you are SO wearing the same dress to both dances!”
Yesterday boy # 2 who attends her school asked her to their Homecoming, still a month away. And I'm thinking to myself; two different schools, two different boys, little overlap between the two groups. Can you guess the first comment out of my mouth? “Oh, you are SO wearing the same dress to both dances!”
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