Saturday, November 9, 2013

I think I've got this teenage thing figured out, and it sucks.

I feel like there is only one way I am going to survive this whole teenage deal, and that is to totally detach myself from it and let them fall flat on their faces.  Otherwise, I am going to end up in the pysch ward (not saying this may not happen anyhow.)

Without going into too much detail, I can tell you that the past month with my darlings hasn't been the best.  I am not here as much, they are eating a lot of cereal and McDonalds for dinner since my internship. They have had more freedom with their dad in charge.

I am not saying that when I was in the lead, they ate organic food that was prepared with all food groups in mind and made with love.  We all know I can't cook.

I have decided, like FIVE minutes ago, that if I am going to survive this whole career, teenage bullshit, and the fact that none of my kids want to hug me anymore, I will need to detach (with love of course).  Completely.  I'll keep them safe when I can (which, I'm finding out, is almost never) I will be there for them when they ask.  But if they don't, I'm not pushing shit.  Because it doesn't work.  All I can do is give love and consequences, that Bob usually doesn't follow through with, and hope for the best.

My house is a lot like Rita explains in Bridesmaids:

Becca: I can't wait to be married for as long as you have been married. And to have kids. To be a mom.
Rita: Becca.
Becca: Yeah?
Rita: The other night I'm slaving away making a beautiful dinner for my family, my youngest boy comes in and says he wants to order a pizza. I said no, we're not ordering pizza tonight. He goes, mom why don't you go and fuck yourself! He's nine!

We all know I don't slave away at beautiful dinners, but I am working my ASS off to get this degree. 
I live in a house where if my child swears at me, I either ignore it, I ask them to please not speak that way, or I yell and sometimes cry. (Honesty folks.)  Their dad hears it and often doesn't say anything.  So out of the window flies away any power I have, because we are not a unified team. I take stuff away, or ground them. My threats, or punishments don't go far, because I'm not around that much to enforce them. 

Can you really blame me?

It is nice to not be the stay-at-home person in charge, and be doing something for myself.  But we are having the issues that are bound to come up.  We love each other. And we do laugh. But our boundaries are STILL out of whack. And we've got teenagers making teenage decisions that scare the shit out of me. 

I will say that if I look back 3+ years ago, it's a whole lot better. So we still move forward.

So in order for me to get through this, and the friends they have, and the parties they may go to, and the stuff they might be trying, and the way they are changing, growing, and thinking they need me less (I know they need me more) I have decided to protect my own heart and worry and keep my side of the street clean. 

All I can do is teach them what I know, and hope they use it. The rest is up to them.  And that my friends, fucking sucks. 


  1. *SOB*
    I'm REALLY not looking forward to teenage years. I can totally see why some people have a billion children; so there's always someone to hug.

    1. I agree...but they grow up. I hug other people's children. It is hard not to ask strangers in the store to hold their babies. My family says that is weird. So I don't. Yes, this stage kind of sucks. But it will pass. Right?

  2. If they get through it in one piece(&you do too) they'll gradually become better decision makers and able to use all that awesome stuff you're sharing with them from your own recovery. I know this cuz mine is now 24 and tweets about stuff like gratitude - the same stuff she called recovery BS back when she was 17

    1. Thank you. That is what I am counting on.

  3. My step-kids are teenagers and they are brats! We are also learning as we go. Its not a fun ride for sure though, Hang in there and stay focused on your goals. You can do this!

  4. Ah, teenagers sound absolutely horrifying. Just encountering them in restaurant parking lots is enough of an ordeal for me, I can't imagine having to actually RAISE them. I think you are somewhat wise to emotionally guard yourself-- I know I wasn't the most pleasant person to be around in my angsty teen years. Just remember that someday they will realize how good they had it. I certainly do...