|Alex (left) age 3 and Jacob, age 9 months|
|Alex , 16|
RAISING TEENAGERS SUCKS!
Yes, I went there. Let me tell you why. Half the time they are driving me crazy with their messes, busy schedules, body & foot odor, hormonal outbursts, challenging my authority and tuning me out. The other half of the time they are purposely making me feel like I am going slowly insane by exploiting my unwavering trust in them, my forgetfulness, and my actual fondness of them. It's true. You can ask them.
|Jacob, showing his hoodie head phones (really)|
|Alex, making a profile picture|
Untamed, alien, monster beings. I am convinced. Please provide evidence internet, if you can, that I am wrong.
Their faces, once chubby and smooth are now chiseled and rough with facial hair and acne. That once sweet baby smell has become, ugh, somewhat of an odious, odorous nightmare, especially when you throw in competitive sports and competitive sports equipment.. There are seriously times when I have to drive home (one handed) from soccer practice covering my nose, with the window down (on the freeway) squinting through tears just from the awfulness and in-humaneness of it all.
|Jacob age 3 1/2|
|Alex (left) and Jacob ages 8 and 5|
They used to bring me random things to show their love and affection like interesting rocks they would find on the street, flowers or cute drawings and artwork from school. Now? They bring me detention notices, funky, diseased dishes from their room and my car keys. So I can drive them somewhere. They used to never think about girls or even want to talk to them. Now they argue over who is going to marry Megan Fox and discuss how "hot" Victoria Justice is. Excuse me? Also? They text, talk and flirt with girls and, *gulp*, go out with them.
|Alex, age 5|
They used to be so happy to see me. When I would come home they would race to see who would be the first to jump into my arms. "Mommy!" They would scream with delight and melt my heart. Now I sort of get the "head nod" and sometimes, if I'm lucky, even a "hey." The happy reunions in the evening are now reserved for just me and the dog. He, at least is ALWAYS happy to see me and not afraid to let me know. He is also my favorite child right now.
|Nico, age 7, doesn't talk back|
There must be an experimental medical factory somewhere that manufactures these body snatchers. Then, whatever maniacal scientist that runs this evil facility, unleashes them on humanity when our children are at their most vulnerable. I.e., Middle school. As parents we are distracted by information packets, rules and instructions from seven different teachers. We are thinking about their first dance, what kind of music is on their iPod and wondering how do they (at age 12) know more about computers then we do. Meanwhile, their bodies are being taken over... right before our eyes and we don't notice until it is to late. Then, one day, out of nowhere, they have a complete meltdown right in front of your eyes, the likes of which you haven't seen since the age of 3 when you wouldn't buy them that thing, at the store, that one time.
There is nothing you can do at that point. The transformation is in place. You are powerless. You are a parent. OF A TEENAGER. Or? A body snatcher that has taken over your child. Either way, you are legally responsible until the age of 18, whether you like this person/thing or not.
Welcome to hormonal hell. Pull up a chair. Have a glass of wine.There are others here, you aren't alone. It's their world now. We are just observers and our only role is to make sure they don't have any fun. At all. It helps also if you are "totally unfair."