As the mother of 2 twenty-somethings and 2 teenagers is it any wonder I’ve taken to writing a blog? They never listen to any of the sage advice I impart daily or weekly, depending on when they deign to talk to me. The 22 year old knows everything and doesn’t have to tell me anything. Those are her words, not mine. The almost 21 year old moved away and calls weekly on a cell phone I still pay for. Weekly?!?! I wonder how popular she would be if she contacted her ‘friends’ as frequently as she does her mother. The 16 year old – Oy! She just passed her drivers test and apparently owns the world as well as the road! I can single-handedly carry on a more constructive conversation with the voices in my head than I can with her of late. The 15 year old is a quasi-man with tunnel vision for video games and all things sports. If he grunts at me once a day I consider myself lucky plus it saves me the trouble of checking him for vital signs (I’m all about multi-tasking). The aforementioned grunting usually occurs when he’s trolling for food and invariably opens the freezer hourly to stick his head in to cool off and to check the status quo of the frozen food content even though-had he been paying attention-he would know I’ve never left the house to grocery shop.
I’ve been too busy picking up. Picking up cast off items strewn about the house which I didn’t get out and shouldn’t have to put back. To amuse myself I sometimes take those things and hide them on my children. It’s fun to watch them go nuts looking for them on their way out the door to go to school when they’re already running late. Does that sound mean? Judge not, lest ye be judged or at least until you try it yourself and see how amusing it actually is.
If I’m not running down kids and their belongings I’m feeding and caring for the pets those same children swore they wanted and would lovingly care for until the end of time. What they really meant was till the end of the week in which we first acquired the pet in question. Is it a coincidence that I have 4 children and 4 pets? I think not. That being said, however, I suppose it’s worked to my advantage because I have a pet to take the place of each child.
There are three dogs, and each one has a personality like each of my girls. The black dog is like the almost 21 year old, sometimes energetic, sometimes lethargic, usually loveable, but prone to being needy and high maintenance. The white dog is beautiful, like the 22 year old. Eye candy, both of them. Flighty, impetitous, and aloof with an unrealistic sense of entitlement. The English bulldog is the 16 year old incarnate. Lazy, sloppy, and all about their next meal or a ride in the car. They do as little as possible, whine when it’s hot, and wait impatiently for others to cater to their every whim. As for the 15 year old man-cub, we have a pet that also grunts occasionally to remind us of his presence, an African spur tortoise. Say what?!?!? Yes, a crazy exotic pet that the man-cub acquired 4 years ago shortly after it hatched. In theory they make perfect pets. They don’t make noise (except for the occasional grunt or throat clearing noise-ackkk), you don’t have to feed them anything that’s alive like insects or small rodents, and they’re happy to park it under a light and sun themselves like a spoiled A-list movie star. Then one day you realize that this benign little pet is going to out grow your house, yard, and probably the local zoo and in all likelyhood outlive your 10 year old by about 120 years. WHAT was I thinking?!?!!? This is the kind of pet you insist your child must take with him when he moves out, even if he says he’s only going away to college and he’ll be back for it. Don’t believe him. He will go to college across the state or the country and never come back. By that time the tortoise will be too large for you to legally ship and you’ll be hooked and stuck.
The tortoise, who shall remain nameless, only because the children could never agree on a name, is simply referred to as ‘The Tortoise’. At least he has a title, in a manner of speaking. When they want my attention I get a ’Yo!’ or ‘What up, Yo!’ I’m 45 years old and couldn’t get away with speaking to my parents like that. They’re both a little hard of hearing but bet your bottom dollar they’d hear me address them like that and it would not be well received. I refuse to answer my kids when they talk that way which might just actually be why they do it. They know I’ll give them the silent treatment which means peace and quiet for an hour or two.
If my children really were animals they wouldn’t be dogs or tortoises, they’d be 3 toed sloths. The slowest, laziest animals in the kingdom. They have no sense of urgency, not even in an emergency. They don’t hurry, they don’t worry, and they’re not afraid of work. They’ll lie down next to it and take a nap.
On this, my maiden voyage, I’ll leave you with wise words to contemplate. I only wish I was witty enough to have penned this, but alas, I did not. Who ever did is a genius and for the record, my hero.
“Raising teenagers is like trying to nail jello to a tree.”
Tags: Add new tag, Children, Family, Funny, Motherhood, sarcastic
