Tag Archive: son

I read a hilarious blog this week about teaching middle school written in the old Jeff Foxworthy style “you might be a redneck if….insert punchline.” I’m well aware that teaching any grade is definitely not the career for me as I’m currently struggling under the burden of managing only two children. A classroom of thirty plus hormonal walking time bombs is the stuff of my nightmares. I am also certainly never going to be a stand up comedian when I grow up but I do have a list of my own to share. I wish it was chockful of helpful advice, but I’m just winging it like the rest of you bewildered parents, often poorly. In fact, send your helpful tips or secrets my way please!!!

“Teenagers scare the living shit out of me

They could care less, as long as someone’ll bleed”

Teenagers by My chemical romance

• If your New Year’s Eve “shenanigans” entailed making sure a boisterous group of freshman and your middle school son did not get high OR pregnant in your basement, raising teenagers might be for you.

• If the sad realization has dawned on you that you’re only good for cash or rides, raising teenagers might be for you.

• If your fifteen year old daughter recommends an adults only vacation when you mention the desire to escape the holidays next year with a trip to Mexico because she no longer desires to travel with her parents or little brother and also foolishly believes she’ll somehow be left unsupervised with the house to herself for days on end, raising teenagers might be for you. This, of course, after her not cheap trip to Spain last summer with her Spanish class ended with an illustrious and I’m sure scenic ambulance ride to a Chicago emergency room when she fainted and seized in the custom’s line after imbibing multiple energy drinks on the long flight back to America to the tune of $4300 in medical bills which sadly didn’t even dent her yearly deductible and also was not covered under our accident insurance policy because teenage stupidity is not an accident.

• If you reluctantly check your ear lobe for a drop of blood, certain your ears must be bleeding after hearing your son (once your baby) proudly referring to his penis as his COCK, raising teenagers might be for you.

• If you find yourself searching for a new pediatrician after the tongue lashing you gave your current doctor’s billing department for the $150 “surgery” charge on your daughter’s well visit bill for removing gravel from her ear, raising toddlers might be for you. Just kidding! Raising teenagers might be for you! She is fifteen not two and supposedly smart enough not to stick a blueberry up her nose but somehow wound up with rocks in her ear like she’d just left the sand box. During her checkup, including a routine hearing check, the nurse spotted some dirt in her ear. Without consulting her father in the waiting room for permission to operate on a minor, the nurse took maybe fifty seconds to scoop the offending dirt from her ear canal and now I’m looking at a bill for $150 with descriptive words like incision and surgery though neither actually took place. Don’t even get me started on how wack our healthcare system is, but DAMN! Teenagers are expensive!

• If you spent your Christmas present massage time brainstorming ideas for your practically abandoned blog because that is the first extended stretch of peace you’ve had since barely surviving hell week unscathed and you halfway convinced your husband and your marriage counselor that writing is your therapy when they ganged up on you repeatedly agreeing that you need to see a therapist of your own…., raising teenagers might be for you.

• If hell week used to mean however many days the kids are off of school for the holidays but has somehow been extended from Halloween night when your son started the evening crying alone in his room refusing to trick-or-treat because his so-called “friends” with their matching sound cloud rapper costumes decided to blacklist him for this most special holiday and exclude him from any of their plans, raising teenagers might be for you. This year hell week started Halloween night and stretched all the way to January 7th when the kids finally went back to school. Honestly, it might last six more years until he’s eighteen or never end at all. I can just tell you the last several months have been a nightmare of “mean boys” and my son’s stomped on self esteem, and my insane restraint in not throat punching several pubescent boys who have no concept of how hurtful it is or more likely believe it’s hilarious to constantly make plans with 4 out of 5 members of the old boy band even going so far as to say “my parents don’t like you” or “there’s not enough room in the car” then waving goodbye and shouting sorry out the window as one oblivious mom picks them all up from the mall except my broken hearted child. And I was foolishly worried about my daughter and the “mean girls”. Of course, amidst all of this life lesson learning about how to make real friends and how I don’t remember most of the assholes I went to middle school or high school with, we had to somehow survive Thanksgiving, Christmas, New year’s and all the BS and stress that comes with my absolute Scroogey least favorite time of the year.

• If reliving this teenage drama is ripping the Band aid off your own unresolved scars from barely surviving adolescence as you experience with your children new and exciting forms of torture designed to squish hopes and dreams like the blackheads dotting their nose creases, raising teenagers might be for you.

“Days like this I don’t know what to do with myself, all day, and all night.I wander the halls, along the walls and under my breath I say to myself-I need fuel to take flight.”

Sullen Girl by Fiona Apple

• If you have decided that Snapchat is the bane of every parent’s existence with it’s auto deleting secret text messages and group chats, to it’s super helpful map that can show you the location of all your “friends” especially when the four of them are clearly at the mall food court after telling your lonely son they were too tired to hang, raising teenagers might be for you.

• If you were stupid enough to “power up” to multiple children instead of having just one like your smart friends or having none like your even smarter friends so you’ve spent the last fifteen years cutting cupcakes in half or evening out portions because as many times as you tell them that life isn’t fair they refuse to believe you and insist on equals amount of everything, raising teenagers might be for you. This is especially frustrating during the holidays when you stupidly try to shop equally so they each have the same amount of presents under the Christmas tree you could not even be bothered to put up this year when all either of them actually wanted was frickin CASH!!!!! C.R.E.A.M.

• If you have become deaf to their snarky remarks of “OK boomer” to anything, literally anything you say to them because you know adamantly that though you often feel white haired and ancient, you are most certainly Generation X, raising teenagers might be for you.

• If you are far too embarassing to enter the mall or Laser Quest or any other place you so graciously provided a ride to and must instead duck nonchalantly or park a block away, raising teenagers might be for you. This also extends to entering their school, the horror! Though the last time I walked my son into the office, I was greeted by Mr. Franklin, the Dean of Culture saying,” Jameson! Just the person I wanted to see!” Meaning the last thing I wanted to hear as he continued into a diatribe about how my son’s behavior in yesterday’s Language Arts class was this close to a referral and how his distractions are actually derailing the teacher from helping the 28 other students in her class from understanding her lesson. Probably the real reason my son didn’t want me entering the school to sign in his excused tardy, not my bed head and gym outfit. Sidenote: I’ve nicknamed him Fresh Start Franklin because that is the lame slogany BS he spouts anytime Jameson is in trouble, we will forget about this infraction and begin new with a fresh start tomorrow instead of constantly hawkeying my son waiting for the next miss step even going so far as to accuse him of graffiti on the playground which Jameson denied. His innocence was confirmed after the security tapes were reviewed but let’s keep spewing that fresh start diatribe until maybe Franklin himself starts to believe it. See also my blog post about raising a troubled child or coping with the strains of an ADHD diagnosis and how to best manage your child’s medication schedule so he can swim instead of sink in middle school. Just kidding! I have no frickin clue what I’m doing on a daily basis, certainly haven’t written that post yet haha!

• If the majority of your posts to Intagram or Facebook are on #flashbackfriday or #throwbackthursday or even #waybackwednesday because you are shocked by how old you are and more scathingly how old your babies became seemingly overnight and they’re both such assholes now the only photos you feel like sharing are the ones when they were still your sweet baby angels (angles) not the extremely uncooperative scowls in any recent pictures. My favorite caption becoming #beforethewar because it does feel like you’re negotiating a war zone anytime the kids are in the same room and you’re so thrilled you decided on more than one child so they would have someone to play with ie. scream at and loathe vs. the pretty lonely only child yet quiet and battle-free childhood you experienced, raising teenagers might be for you.

• If you get a kick out of the startled look on your husband’s face when his phone is finally off silent and he is blasted by the Office theme song as his new ringtone courtesy of your hilarious daughter. Or that week when he didn’t receive any text message notifications and almost bought a new phone before you discovered your son had silenced his notification setting in his phone as a silly prank or a Cat’s in the Cradle cry for more of his father’s attention, raising teenagers might be for you.

“When you comin’ home?

Son, I don’t know when

We’ll get together then.’

Cat’s In The Cradle by Harry Chapin

• If you are praying that your children will decide on a trade like welder or automotive technician (like Mom) because you believe that college is a sham and surviving four to five years of date rape and alcohol poisoning to graduate with thousands in student debt and the skills for a $15 per hour job is a bleak futue , raising teenagers might be for you. They certainly aren’t living in your basement for their entire adulthood

• If you’re ready to discover a hairy drained bathtub without a peep or even the thought to ask you, their wise mother’s advise on the leg shaving right of passage, raising teenagers might be for you.

• If you marvel at how you are somehow even still alive after remembering all the life threatening stupid things you did in your life as you lay awake worrying all night because your genius daughter is not smart enough to keep her “lifeblood” phone charged or to touch base, raising teenagers might be for you. Speaking of that particular favorite (and only) daughter of mine, she came out to us last year and unlike most gender fluid youth of today, I think she’s the real deal so we’re navigating sleepovers with her 17 year old girlfriend though hubby was reluctant. We have okayed because in her words, “No one is getting pregnant…” but still haven’t figured out how this will be fair to her younger brother when he’s not allowed the same girlfriend sleepover pass because we’re hypocrites or just clueless on how to proceed. If anyone would like to write a guide on What to Expect When You’re Raising a Teenage Lesbian or maybe the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Gay Teen Galaxy, I’d love any kind of advice though I already know DON’T PANIC!

• If you’re favorite past time is warring with your daughter because she inherited all your worst traits like extreme stubborness and difficulty apologizing, raising teenagers might be for you.

• If you somehow wound up with the cool house that the neighborhood kids like to hang out at with an endless supply of ramen, airsoft guns, and Grand Theft Auto and you prefer to have them all under your roof where you can monitor vs. getting drunk in parks like you once did, raising teenagers might be for you. Though finding your towel racks ripped out of the bathroom wall then gingerly replaced like you won’t notice the whole contraption falling to the floor the first time you grab a towel to dry off post-shower or cleaning resin off your bathroom sink because your children’s friends sometimes ignore your drug-free house policy and think the bathroom beneath the master bedroom is the ideal place to sneak a toke are some downfalls to hosting. Also, 3/4s of your jar of sleep inducing melatonin gummies goes missing because teens think they’re worth swiping like Mama’s Little Helper and you soon figure out what should be hidden.

• If you had a lame birthday late in the school year like February and it felt like 1000 years passed before you finally turned sixteen and got your driver’s license. Then you were stoked for your daughter to have an early birthday in October so technically she could be one of the first drivers in her grade and maybe finally help out by schlepping your son around a bit too but she’s so GD lazy that it’s late January and she can’t be bothered to finish the thirty hour driving course necessary to even get her driver’s permit that you purchased back in the fall and now she’ll be LUCKY to get her license by February, raising teenagers might be for you. Though secretly, I’m terrified of the thought of her behind the wheel so I’m not nagging too much.

“Little fifteen, You help her forget

The world outside, You’re not part of it yet

And if you could drive,You could drive her away”

Little 15 by Depeche Mode

Dang! I could probably go on all night. My takeaway is I clearly don’t have any answers. Welcome any suggestions and commiserations and know that I’m not alone this bewilderment that is “raising teenagers”. Assure myself by realizing I somehow made it out the other side without my mother snapping my neck (deservedly) and I value her friendship over most so I hope my kids come back to me eventually.