Who Are You and Why Have You Eaten My Son?!?!

The challenges of living with a snarky man-in-waiting. Is it wrong to say, "Dang my kid brings me down!"?

You know something?  My kid has really started to piss me off!!

In my earlier and more genteel days, I'd wax poetic and nauseatingly about the unsung joys of motherhood. I’d write odes and sonnets and short stories about how lucky I thought I was, and how I felt God had blessed me with the perfect, most beautiful and awesome human child ever birthed.  Ever!  I imagined my child perfect. With Imperfections of course, but even more perfect for those imperfections.  I could not imagine a world without him.

HA!! That was so six months ago!! These days, my face is curled into a perpetual snarl as I ponder just who this fully pubescent kid is, and wonder what the hell he did with that other kid that used to live here.

My boy is "13, closer to 14". (Yes, that's a real age!)  He struts around like he has the world by the short hairs. He’s reached the top of the great social heap that is middle school.  There he sits enthroned on his pinnacle of popularity with the power that can only be bestowed upon those fortunate enough to have moved into 8th grade after completing the 7th grade.

From there, he imagines himself heir apparent to some type of kingly realm. The word is his oyster, and he believes himself above the rest of all the mere mortals living in his universe, and his household. His self image is of one who is sage and wise to the mysterious ways of this dark and complex universe.

My perception of him is just a tad different.  I see a snarky, sarcastic, oft-times rude, smarty pants, arrogant, lazy know-it-all neanderthal.

I'm pretty much useless in his world unless he needs money, or skateboard parts, or a ride to the movies which I will be expected to pay for.  Any request or reminder to do anything remotely "work-like" is met with a ‘tude of a magnitude I cannot describe.  Were I dare to offer a reminder to - say - empty the trash, I get:  “Geesh Mom! Get off my back! What is a slavedriver! Ugh! Umph! Harumph! Sigh! Geesh! and Whatever!"  How dare I expect him remember EVERYTHING, even though I am forbidden to remind him of ANYTHING; meaning what eventually does get done is NOTHING!

Sometimes I just get tired of fighting it so I go to that nice and cozy "Oh screw it!" place.  It’s peaceful there though if I stay too long I come back to things like overflowing trash bins or finding 2/3 of the beds in the house unmade.  I’ve been there so often lately that everyone now just gets dressed in the garage because that is where the folded laundry is.  Why are these things allowed to stand? Like I said I'm freakin' tired... and I found the "Ahhh Screw it!" place, and that's where I'm staying till that strange person moves out.  It’s nicer there.

Actually, I 'm starting to believe that sending Mom to the “Screw It place" is, in fact, my son’s master plan.  “Wear her down to a dull little nub who drools leaving me free to do pretty much what I want.”

Sometimes I truly wonder what the hell happened to that glorious golden boy of unlimited potential I was so damn proud of.  Where is He-Who-Owned-My-Heart-and-Soul'?   That angelic and beatific golden child has been replaced by a pale, snarky, sarcastic, menacing, swearing, burping and farting man-boy-man-teen with acne.  I’ve been “baited-and-switched” I say.  

So to the forces of karma, or the gods of "evening the score", or whatever - listen up!  I’ve done the full-on super mom thing.  From morning sickness to the up/down/up/down hormone shuffle of pregnancy.  I bore the indignity of expelling an 8 pound fully formed human person with a bowling ball sized head from my body where it subsequently set out to make even more demands on me.  I was up for the 2 am and 4 am and 6 am feedings. Yup! Every single stinking sleep deprived one. I went for three to four days without a shower routinely. I managed ear infections and tummy aches.  I lived through that "please let the ground swallow me now" moment when my precious 3 year old son stated at full decibel, "Mommy that lady is FAT".  I soldiered through the "No! No! No!" years, through full blown temper tantrums in front of company. sat quietly through the stair stomping arm folded declarations of "You're an evil evil mom!"   I have sat through Barney and Big Bird, on TV and in movie theaters.  I've driven thousands upon thousand of miles, shelled out thousands upon thousand of dollars, taught Sunday School, baked cookies and was den mother for 12 mewing Tiger Cub Scouts.  All this I have done while shedding countless drops of blood, sweat AND tears of my own alongside it all.  One would think the payoff for all of this thankless work and effort would be something other than being forced to cohabitate with a messy, grumpy, curmudgeon of a boy/man/pubescent person who cannot even navigate through his own bedroom without tripping over something once edible or perhaps living.

And still, when it's all said and done.... I still - kinda, sorta... maybe... a tiny bit - do like the kid - mostly.  Mostly being 1) during that first five minutes after he wakes up in the morning and is too foggy to see his way to cranky or, 2) during those ten minutes after he's fallen to sleep. Yup! I like him best during those two times.

As I sigh once more (and often), I take solace from the words of "Those Who've Gone Before and Lived to Tell About It".  They say, "Don't kill yourself dearie.  It eventually passes.  Then it comes back.  But then it passes. BBut then it comes back again.  And before you know it he'll be a 45 year old man living in your guest room in your retirement condo in Boca.”

One more sigh seems appropriate here.  Yeah - I know.  It all passes. That is the one and the only one dependable constant in child rearing.  It is also what I repeat to myself meditatively each night..... so that I won't cry myself to sleep.

OK! It will eventually pass, and he'll change.  I understand that, but man I could so happily skip this teen jerk part.   Could skip right ahead to the day when my financial and emotional investments finally pay off and my payback arrives.  To that far off day when my son becomes my own living and breathing 401K, and I move my crabby old lady a*s in with with him and his family.  HA!

When that day comes, I plan to leave my various items of crap strewn about his house and expect HIM to know the location of each and every item.  I'm going to leave the house phone in my bedroom (nowhere near a charger), and then I'll misplace the spare phone so that we can all hear the phone ringing but can’t actually answer it.  I'm going to be just as crotchety and snarky as I damn well please because I'm entitled.  I'll feed his kids candy after school and pretend my hearing aid is on the fritz when he tries to scold me.  I'll teach his kids to swear at passing motorists, and when they burp at the table, I’m gonna freakin’ laugh!  Oh and you better bet I am gonna burp and fart at his dinner table!  Oh! I also plan to forget to turn  off ALL or ANY lights off when leaving a room, and I'll make damn sure I leave the front door wide open if the air conditioner is running.

And when he complains, I think I'll just contradict him with a complete non-logical response like, "No I didn't!".  Then I'll give him my sweetest smile, and demand $20.  Then I’ll ask - no insist - that he give me and four of my friends - he needs to pick them all up by the way - a ride to the movies.

I’ll demand strict adherence to a rigid mealtime schedule of: 5 am breakfast, Noon-on-the-Dot-Not-A-Second-Later Lunch and 4 pm dinner.  I might be nice and offer to take him out for a cheap, early bird special every now and then, but I'll forget my wallet and he’ll have to pay.  And finally, every night I'll sneak into the kitchen and drink the last drop of milk or whatever from the fridge, then put the empty container back on on the shelf.  I'll also deny it was me. Prove it!

And just in case that isn't enough, at least once a month, I'll fling myself down on the couch in the middle of his favorite TV show, and complain loudly that he “NEVER does ANYTHING for me!”  And in doing these things will I be able to sleep peacefully and soundly at night; knowing that the universe has finally righted itself and karma has been restored.

To every thing there is reason. It is better to give rather than receive. Fair is Fair.  Yin & Yang.  Where there is light there must also be darkness. We cannot know happiness unless we know sorrow.

Oh yeah baby! Finally, all will be right with my world.

Reviews

[roarke]

roarke-ism???..... oh boy.... ahem

why wait? do the reverse behavior thing now.... that'll throw 'im....

It's sad to think by "contemporary" standards this write might come off "rangy."
It's a tight piece, full of personality and plucky experience that tugs at a reader's cockles.... I have such a son, now twenty.... hasn't changed yet.

But getting back to the rangy subject, life isn't a mainstream media bite, life takes as long as it takes and I find this piece a well rounded out expression.
So erudite for a blondie.....
Good stuff SHL.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Your feedback always means much. Thank you for it. I said rangy because I see things that don't need to be there to keep the story interesting. Some of it drags. I'll come back round and clean it it, but in the mean time, thank you for your feedback. Always. And humbly. And in friendship.

[lee von cleef]

The big rangy colt shook the dust out of his mane, rubbed on the round coral his coat shedding all around , and a dry sense of doom arose in the riders eyes, fell to a lump in her throat,"I picked him to ride? or did he pick me?" With a slow caliber smile she buckled on her spurs, picked up her quirt,threw the cell phone out of the wooden circle,kicked the stereo up loud and all we could hear was ..." Mr. Bad Example" Warren at his best,then the colt learned they had something they both could like.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Sigh. OK. I hear you my friend. Thanks for this.

[lee von cleef]

What do you both like, O K not like , the undeveloped frontal lobes have to find footing, someplace, what from the "Outside World" ends up on the inside chalk board, what stays on that board? what is erased? where does it go when we sleep? Tic Tack Toe = Cat game,Smile.