Leave it to my youngest to bring up back to school shopping. In July. While on vacation.
I guess one could praise Bear for her foresight and responsibility. Me? I fell back on Advanced Parenting 301. I said I didn’t want to think about it until August.
And dammit, here we are.
I feel like there should be overture music here. Something with a driving rhythm – thumping drums, blaring horn section, maybe an underlying bass line. Perhaps the Death Star music would suffice.
For today is the day that T-man finally, conclusively, at long last officially becomes a teenager.
“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”
Okay, maybe equating parenting a teen with “the hour of our death” is a little harsh. Mark it up to poetic license on the eve of T-man’s thirteenth birthday.
That age old question: is it wrong to read my child’s diary? One woman’s (vehement) opinion.
“I have been very clear in making sure my children have never even gotten the idea that they have a right to privacy in my home. Sure, my kids can bathe in private or close the doors to their bedrooms, but they cannot keep diaries locked away or drawers in their dressers off limits from me and the Hubs.
Why do we think that children deserve privacy? Why do we think that some how we’re betraying our precious snowflake’s trust by reading her text messages or his emails? I’m not betraying their trust, I’m parenting.”
People I Want to Punch in the Throat: Why My Children Have No Right to Privacy
– A humor blog about kids and being a mom. Saying the things people want to say. People I Want to Punch in the Throat.
Our boys are such a gift. Seeing the world with new eyes each day. Laughing riotously, about everything, anything, and nothing at all. Full of big dreams and even bigger imaginations.
But in many ways, we fail our boys, too.
We don’t do enough to encourage their sensitivity. Middle school students mock boys for crying, and there are still too many parents who reinforce that message at home. I don’t want my son falling apart over a paper cut (my daughter either!), but our boys need to know that it’s okay to cry. That sometimes, sitting through the really hard stuff and letting it out is the only way to move forward.
Advice from the battlefield. With a seriously funny edge.
“Teenagers are like those cool tropical fish you get after you’ve mastered goldfish.
Who am I kidding? No one can master the keeping of goldfish. Or pre-teens. Or teenagers. You graduate only to bigger kids, but with bigger issues and bigger appetites. God help us all. Especially me?…
Keep your head up – here are tips I offer from years of battleground experience.”
I know, I know, I’m old as dirt. Over the hill. Practically ancient when it comes to you and your hip ways. Tweens and teens everywhere snicker madly when the old people offer advice because what the hell would we know about actual life.
Bwahahahaha!!!
More than you will ever know, baby. More.than.you.will.ever.know.
Crackle, crackle, crunch crunch.
Hear that? Those are the eggshells scattered all over our floor these days.
We’re navigating tempestuous waters here. Some days it’s smooth sailing, others the sea is gray and choppy with a tornado warning to boot, but BrightSide and I are in this for the long haul. You take what life throws at you and keep on swimming.
Wasn’t it just yesterday these kids were all skinned knees and fighting over whose turn it is? Wait, that was yesterday. But you know what I mean. We’re swimming with the sharks these days.
But to survive the sharks, all you need is a plan.
