Seriously, I have so many goals that I can't seem to narrow them down. I have a hugely busy life, a stressful career (I am taking Dooce's advice and not typing ill of my job, but I could, trust me!) and a teenager living across the hall. The teenager, my youngest son, is the most wonderful and toughest part of any given day. He doesn't mean to be, I know, but (as he might type) OMG we can battle with each other.
Last night, which just might rank up there as the worst night on record, was truly surreal. Not since he was four or five years old have I witnessed such a melt-down. I'm not going into the particulars, because that would just be tacky, but suffice it to say, I wasn't sure we were going to come out on the other side of this Twilight Zone experience. I have long ago accepted the realization that I am, at least in his eyes, stupid some of the time, that I say the wrong thing much of the time and that I can be incredibly embarrassing with very little effort. I don't say yes enough and I am trying to keep him from growing up, but last night defied all logic, trumped all past WWIII preludes and became one of those nights I will forever regret. (Now, before you decide never to read this BLOG again, fearful I may reveal something really disturbing . . . assuming anyone has or will begin to follow this BLOG . . . there were no physical injuries, no one ran away and nothing got broken. But both of our feelings and psyches certainly were bruised terribly and the drama was in high gear from both the parent and the child. Not one of my finer parenting moments, but I digress . . . ) Once there were no more tears and we were both exhausted, we calmed down, hugged and tried to start over. I vowed to never allow myself to get that worked up again . . . which led me to this BLOG about goals and parenting.
It is rather cliche to state that there is nothing easy about parenting. Of course it is easy to love and nurture and have dreams about what your child or children will become. But the nitty, gritty, disciplinarian, truth is that parenting is hard. Especially when you are alone. It often times hardens your perspective and doesn't allow for flexibility. On the other hand, we all know parents who are more interested in being friends. They make my job a LOT harder and I have gotten to the point that I would like to ban them from our little universe! (Who died and made me Queen?) Seriously. being friends with a teenager is a BAD plan. Don't try it because you will live to regret it, and so will all of us parents who are depending on you to do the right thing. Parenting takes a village, unless you live on an island . . . then you can be friends all day long, and it won't bother anyone else.
What does all this mean? I finally had some time today to get a few things off my chest. I'm no expert and this rant isn't meant to be a rant at all. Remember, I set out to share each day before the big 50. I'm just following that GOAL!
Be nTouch
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| Not a teenager yet! Look at that face!! |
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