Friday, August 26, 2011

Parental Muck

A few recent (very recent) personal examples of the messed-up-mucked-up-blood boiling-head exploding world that we commonly refer to as "parenting."

Yesterday. I leave work early (time that I will have to make up) so that I can get home in time to take 16 y/o to soccer practice by 5:15. We leave on time and are having a nice conversation on the way to the field. The traffic is heavy because it is commute time, but we are still cutting through it pretty well. I am just entering the freeway when out of the corner of my eye I see, said teenager, reach down to his bag, sit up quickly and with my ears I hear the barely audible "no." I quickly looked at him, noted the pathetically, panicked expression on his face and knew instantly what it meant. "No," I said. "You've got to be kidding me?" No answer, just the sheepish look of a young man who forgot his soccer cleats at home. Gah! I get off the freeway and head back home. We get home, get the cleats and head back to the field. We get to his 5:15 practice at 5:41. As we pull into the driveway the HS football team is practicing on the field and there is no soccer team to be found. He notices two teammates with their fathers parked on the side so we pull up and ask what is going on. "Practice is at 6. Do you believe that?" One of the teammates says. OMG. As darling teenager gets out of the car, he says to me, "At least we weren't late."

Today. This morning. 20 minutes before we leave for school. Younger-almost-teenager-middleschooler son says "Mom, I need to print something out real quick." WHAAAAT? (sidenote: the printer is in the boom-boom room where it has been since we painted last month. We haven't needed it so it has been sitting there untouched. Also, sidenote #2: The little terd said he finished all his homework last night and spent the entire night either outside playing with his friends or hanging around the house watching TV or playing with his iPod. Also, sidenote #3: he did the same thing the night before that as well). "Yeah, I need to print these pictures out for a math assignment." Ugh! Is your blood boiling? Mine is just re-telling this story. ANYWAY. I tell him he will need to get the printer out and turn it on. Turns out he needs to print some pictures he has on his iPod. Um? There is no connection to the printer for that. I tell him he will have to email them to himself, turn on the laptop and print them from there. He gets busy doing that and I notice there is no power cord. "You haven't plugged it in." I tell him. "I don't know where the plug is," he says. Um, did ya look right next to where you got the printer from? UGH! I track down the power cord and we start going back and forth about why he didn't do this the night before, etc., etc. I really lay into him about the whole situation. And, you know. Once the fury is unleashed, it cannot be calmed down. Meanwhile the clock is ticking. It is taking some time and he gets completely frustrated and says, er yells. "forget it. I'll just get a zero," and grabs the keys, slams the front door and goes to wait for me in the car. I wait for the pictures to print out and calmly bring them to the car where he is fit to be tied. I mean pissed off. Was it something I said? He takes a look at them and says he can't use them and crumples them up while shoving them into his back pack. Oh. No. He. Did. Not. Just. Do. That. I drag him back to the house. I tell him he is not going to school until he comes up with a solution to this. He is crying. I'm about to, but I'm still to mad. More yelling. I'm still trying to figure out what the stupid assignment is anyway. Something with the photos, facts and a timeline. That? Again, he had two days to complete. He is saying he doesn't know what exactly he is supposed to do, he was just hoping to bring the pictures and ask someone at lunch time how to put it together. There is so much I wanted to say. So many expletives I wanted to scream. So many places on his skinny body I wanted to kick. But I'm in crisis mode. This. Will. Get. Solved. Then, as if it couldn't get worse, he gets on this stubborn notion that he will just stay home from school, finish the assignment and turn it in Monday. No. Excuse me, I meant HELL NO. We debated about that. Big mistake. Never debate with a hormonal (almost) 13 year old. I went back to my dictator role and dolled out the decisions. Cut out the pictures, take them to school, hope and pray you can throw something together by 6th period. End of story. And in my head: I -don't-care-about-anything-that-is-coming-out-of -your-mouth-right-this-second-because-it-will-not-change-my-mind-now-go-go-go-go. I took him to school, went to the office and got him an "unexcused" tardy and off to work I went. *Exhausted before 9:00am*

Parenting is so fun. So, so, so very, very fun. *shaking and slowly hitting my head repeatedly on the desk in hopes that the memories will go away*

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