“Kids these days…..” How many times have you heard that phrase? I heard it from my own parents. And I chuckle to myself when I think of it because I can’t imagine what my parents would have done with kids today at the ripe old age of 14 – 19. Well, actually, I can imagine. But, mom and dad, seriously, you can’t believe these kids today.
Speaking about my own children, of course, my children should send me a lavish Thank You card. Because they’re still on this planet. Alive and breathing. Seriously. Now having raised 5 children, 1 that was of that age in the 90’s, 1 that was of that age in the early 2000’s, 1 in the late 2000’s, and 2 that are in the throes of it right now, you would think that I would have learned a thing or two. But, I really didn’t. Although now, I do just point to another room and yell, “Get out!” which will send the youngest scurrying. Sometimes. You see, each of my 5 have their own unique, distinctive, and particular set of characteristics that set each other apart from the other. They are the same, yet very different. And, I must say, my children were never ones to get in trouble, school or other wise. Were, for the most part, obedient and received good grades in home school and public school. But, man, those teenage years were still brutal.
Even my oldest celebrated her teenage years by tying for the telephone because the dial-up computer was in use. I’m pretty sure I pried her off the computer with a crowbar a time or two. Child #2 was my side-kick. My “always there when I need you,” until he discovered the female population. He then turned into an unrecognizable being that, to this day, is a mystery to me. Child #3 perfected what I call the, “eye-roll-ass-flip” move that, to this day, can set me off on a moment’s notice. Child #4, introvert extraordinaire, hasn’t acted out as the others have – other than dying her hair blue and telling me daily how she wants a lip ring. And then there’s Child #5. She’s a combination of dynamite, sarcasm, and attitude that goes on for days. And she has been the one to break me. Because there is nothing that brings her back to square. Well, except one thing. And I REALLY HATE practicing it but I have found that it’s the only thing that works. I won’t talk to her. When she walks in the room, I walk out. When she walks up to me, I walk away. When she runs after me, I duck her, go in my room, lock the door. Because she stresses me out just that much. When she gets started, I just can’t handle it.
I love my children and wouldn’t change a thing with any of them. They are creations sent from God and I am proud to call myself their mother. Even with the frustration. Even with the heartache. Even with the tears. Because I knew that, eventually, they would come around (that usually hits in the 20-25 year old range) and, even if they didn’t, as long as they were happy, I could not ask for anything more. Their happiness means the world to me. And, hey, they survived the 14-19 year old era. That accomplishment deserves some happiness =D.