Living with teens is like…
Living with professional looters.
And world-class hackers.
It is like being stuck in the movie Groundhog Day except instead of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania you go back to middle school to face the kid who tormented you.
Every single day.
It is like having a tattoo of “kick me”…
On your forehead.
Living with teenagers is like being stuck in a reoccurring dream in which all you ever do is pick up dirty socks, turn over your debit card, everything smells like the bottom of a gym locker, and the only way anyone ever answers you is to repeat the exact thing you said, rephrased as a sarcastic question.
Mom: “Did you take out the trash?”
Teen: “I don’t know, Mom? Did I take out the trash?” (that dripping sound is sarcasm)
Living with teenagers is that one parent who brags about their perfect kid ALL THE TIME AS A PRAYER REQUEST while you are contemplating the actual pros and cons of both military school and forcible commitment to a convent (even though you are not Catholic.)
“Please pray for my Jane. She is so busy with her full load of AP classes, her art show at the NY institute of Art, her interviews with Harvard, Cornell, and Yale all while both staring o
n the soccer team and trying to prepare her
speech as valedictorian!”
Living with teenagers is like going into a tunnel. Tunnels are fun, but they are dark and scary too. Sometimes you are not entirely certain that mountain of rock isn’t going to come crashing down on top of you but…you have hope, great hope, that everyone will come out into the sun again on the other side. *
*props to my friend, Christ Davenport. He first came up with the idea that parenting teens was like going into a tunnel when his own girls were tunnel bound. I am happy to say they all three came out on the other side. For all of you still in there with me…beep beep!
Oh Sherri, this is a great post and so true! Our “deep dark tunnel” kid took us places we never thought we’d have to go (we parented according to James Dobson, for goodness sake!) and it was years and years before we saw inklings of daylight ahead. He is 28 now and I’m fairly sure he’s out of the tunnel, mostly…and it’s his tunnel now anyway, right? To those who are still tumbling around in that special darkness, the best tool we ever had was love. Tough love, stupid love, merciful love, end-of-your-rope love, broken-hearted love, whatever. Just keep loving. And a sense of humor, if you can find one…I wish we had laughed more, with him and at him. We laugh now, that’s for sure. And we keep believing in him because he is a great human and is desperately loved by God
Yes, Wendy! This past week was heart wrenching, literally gut shredding for me. And you know what God kept whispering in the middle of the night, in the bleary morning hours? Love, love, love…It is the only weapon we have. Hugs to you friend.
Hugs back to you…I appreciate your insight.