Whoever said that parenting teenagers was like being pecked to death by chickens clearly only had one teenager at a time. When you have multiple teens in the house, it is more like surviving lions in the arenas of Ancient Rome. Except the lions are grunting, grumpy, smelly people who think you are the stupidest human on the face of the earth, if not the entire universe.
When I was in the throes of baby and toddler parentdom, I truly believed this was the toughest thing a person could do. The sheer physical effort alone was incredible. No sleep. Constantly wrestling with what seemed like amped up octopi in diapers. Always sprinting to catch the offspring that was prone to run away at the most dangerous times. People helpfully told me that this was nothing compared to parenting teens. I must say I rolled my red rimmed, sleep deprived eyes and may have muttered a barely audible “Foxtrot Oscar” to myself…but now that I’m here, parenting teenagers…I have to say that they were right.
The mental effort involved in trying to keep one step ahead of teenage shenanigans, paired with the self control required not to kill one of them when there has been one too many eye rolls is enormous.
The rapidly whirring brains, the lighting fast physical changes and the emotional roller coaster ride of teen hood has us all hanging on for dear life. It is like living with a suddenly six foot tall Jekyll and Hyde. One moment I’m still “mommy”, the next I’m the “worst”. Happens so fast I have the wind knocked out of me. Based on my convos with other parents, I’m not alone in this full blown circus. Thank god. I’ll need someone to do shooters with. I often feel that oblivion may be the only way to survive.
Often, 100% of the teenagers in the house are mad at me. Because I am “not cool, don’t understand, too strict, but all the other kids have it, etc…”. Get used to it kids! My job is to make sure I am not unleashing a tribe of howling, awful, self obsessed, open mouth chewers upon this earth. Being a parent involves…wait for it…PARENTING. This means my kids will likely think I suck much of the time. As hard as that is, I’m ok with it. It means I’m doing my job. Because as much as mornings resemble a donnybrook every day before school, I love them. More than they could possibly ever comprehend.
The silver lining in this hormonal storm cloud is that I see glimpses every single day of the amazing adults they will become. The acerbic wits that are developing, the passionate opinions they are beginning to share, and the shine of gifts that are unfolding. It’s amazing. And the fact that they are now old enough that we can snicker together over slightly inappropriate and completely inane YouTube videos is what keeps me from packing up my wine collection and running away. Well that, and the hope that soon enough we will be friends. Until that day, I will continue to be the “mean mom that doesn’t understand.” Because I love them.
Hive of Five 