Teen Angst, Way Too Early
One of the most dreaded times in parenting is puberty. The cop and I have survived it three times thus far, and my only real comfort in having two more kids was that I would have a really long time before I had to deal with it again.
Wrong.
Blame growth hormones in milk, whatever. My six year old is apparently a teenager. Sure, he's only fifty pounds and no, he's not all freakishly pizza faced yet. But sweet Jesus, his attitude is straight up 15 year old boy. And so I thought I would share with you, loyal readers, some of our more eye twitching moments as of late.
These moments have all spawned from his increased vocabulary, and some phrases I really didn't expect to deal with for another decade. For example, "I don't even LIKE you Mom." Sure, this should make me catch my breath. Probably all of those mothers who are actual competitors for Mother of the Year out there would sit down and have a serious, heartfelt chat with him about how even though he's upset he's still very loved by his mother, regardless of how he feels toward her at any given moment.
Here's the thing. I checked into the Mother of the Year competition. Turns out I'm not in the running right now. It further turns out that the inscription "Really Good Mom Despite Working Full Time and Missing Somewhat Crucial Childhood Moments Due to Work Trainings or Travel" won't fit on any trophy plaque. That being said, I'm feeling pretty free to respond almost however I see fit. I say almost because my first thought was "Well, good thing being your friend isn't in the job description, bucko." I refrained and simply played it off with a "that's nice dear." I'll invest more energy when the commission takes my suggestion about that runner up trophy a little more seriously.
Example two: "You're ruining my LIFE!!!" And what, you ask, could I have done to warrant that little gem? Oh, well I turned down the radio when one of his 8 million "favorite" songs were on. And why, why would I do that, thus ruining every opportunity for happiness from here forward for the first grader? Just a screaming headache which was throbbing in time with his million decibel accompaniment of Maroon Five. I opted not to respond, because the only thing I could think was "Really? That was WAY easier than I thought it would be..."
But the real doozy, ladies and gents, wasn't exactly expressed through words. He had to explain the sentiment a bit. And what it boiled down to was when I cheer for him at soccer in front of his girlfriends using the term of endearment "baby" I embarrass him.
I EMBARRASS HIM!!!
This actual makes me laugh. Because one day I will have his now adult brother and sisters explain to him what me embarrassing a child actual consists of, and how mortifying I can be. I'm not even warmed up yet! But I will be. And the real kicker here is the irony of a small child thinking that the parent is embarrassing. Really? Really???? This from the child who, as an infant, unleashed his demon filled bowels down my shirt in a crowded store, necessitating me purchasing a new top and standing in a long line covered in his infant poop while people edged away covering their noses and gagging? This, from the child who, as a toddler, asked if I farted in a crowded room when I was holding his brother who needed to be changed? And this, from the child who JUST THIS YEAR waited until I was 15 paces from the shopping cart and lifted up a box of tampons from said cart to scream at me "IT'S NOT FAIR MOM!!!!! IF YOU GET A TOY HERE I SHOULD GET ONE TOO!!!"
I embarrass YOU???? Oh no, sweetheart, but one day. One day. I'm stockpiling all this.
Until next time!
Wrong.
Blame growth hormones in milk, whatever. My six year old is apparently a teenager. Sure, he's only fifty pounds and no, he's not all freakishly pizza faced yet. But sweet Jesus, his attitude is straight up 15 year old boy. And so I thought I would share with you, loyal readers, some of our more eye twitching moments as of late.
These moments have all spawned from his increased vocabulary, and some phrases I really didn't expect to deal with for another decade. For example, "I don't even LIKE you Mom." Sure, this should make me catch my breath. Probably all of those mothers who are actual competitors for Mother of the Year out there would sit down and have a serious, heartfelt chat with him about how even though he's upset he's still very loved by his mother, regardless of how he feels toward her at any given moment.
Here's the thing. I checked into the Mother of the Year competition. Turns out I'm not in the running right now. It further turns out that the inscription "Really Good Mom Despite Working Full Time and Missing Somewhat Crucial Childhood Moments Due to Work Trainings or Travel" won't fit on any trophy plaque. That being said, I'm feeling pretty free to respond almost however I see fit. I say almost because my first thought was "Well, good thing being your friend isn't in the job description, bucko." I refrained and simply played it off with a "that's nice dear." I'll invest more energy when the commission takes my suggestion about that runner up trophy a little more seriously.
Example two: "You're ruining my LIFE!!!" And what, you ask, could I have done to warrant that little gem? Oh, well I turned down the radio when one of his 8 million "favorite" songs were on. And why, why would I do that, thus ruining every opportunity for happiness from here forward for the first grader? Just a screaming headache which was throbbing in time with his million decibel accompaniment of Maroon Five. I opted not to respond, because the only thing I could think was "Really? That was WAY easier than I thought it would be..."
But the real doozy, ladies and gents, wasn't exactly expressed through words. He had to explain the sentiment a bit. And what it boiled down to was when I cheer for him at soccer in front of his girlfriends using the term of endearment "baby" I embarrass him.
I EMBARRASS HIM!!!
This actual makes me laugh. Because one day I will have his now adult brother and sisters explain to him what me embarrassing a child actual consists of, and how mortifying I can be. I'm not even warmed up yet! But I will be. And the real kicker here is the irony of a small child thinking that the parent is embarrassing. Really? Really???? This from the child who, as an infant, unleashed his demon filled bowels down my shirt in a crowded store, necessitating me purchasing a new top and standing in a long line covered in his infant poop while people edged away covering their noses and gagging? This, from the child who, as a toddler, asked if I farted in a crowded room when I was holding his brother who needed to be changed? And this, from the child who JUST THIS YEAR waited until I was 15 paces from the shopping cart and lifted up a box of tampons from said cart to scream at me "IT'S NOT FAIR MOM!!!!! IF YOU GET A TOY HERE I SHOULD GET ONE TOO!!!"
I embarrass YOU???? Oh no, sweetheart, but one day. One day. I'm stockpiling all this.
Until next time!
Comments
Post a Comment