parenting

I am *NOT* your friend.

I had to reaffirm some rules this weekend. It was not fun, but it was necessary.

My husband and I have long contended over parenting styles. I am more relaxed, I have more of an emotional approach. He is more rigid, more structure based. Our differences are all based on our individual personalities and beliefs, but also on what kind of parenting worked for us best. I am working on my firmness and follow through. He is attempting to be a bit more relaxed and not quite so rigid. We are all works in progress.

i-am-your-mom

So, at times, my kiddos will push the boundaries and limits I have provided to them. My youngest lost her use of a cell phone because of poor choices with social media. We are currently in month almost 3 of her not having her phone back because she has yet to show me that she deserves it back through her choices and behavior. But keeping it from her is killing me! I hate her not haivng what she wants, but I have to remind myself constantly that this is good for her. That I am providing her with clear expectations and consequences and I am allowing her to make the choice of how long her phone is gone. I do remind her that she is the one in control of how long her phone is gone and that I am not budging on what my expectations are for her to earn it back. I’m expecting she will get her phone back in a week or two because she is improving.

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When my kids got their cellphones, I made them all sign a contract with very clear expectations, do’s and don’ts, and requirements that came with them having access to cellphones. Some of those expectations are all authority figures have the ability to check the phone at all times, that we have access to all social media, and that they can not block us or lock us out of anything on their phones. Thisis to make sure they are not getting themselves into potentially dangerous ar risky situations that could harm them or others. My son decided to block me on a certain social media site. After repeated attempts to access said page, I had to remind him of who pays for his phone, how old he is, and that I am not doing this to embarrass him or cause issues, but to keep an eye out and to make sure he is safe. And I also reminded him that he signed a contract and he needed to abide by that. He gave me access…albeit begrudgingly. All of the teenage sullen looks were received last night. It was unpleasant, but necessary. He needed to be reminded that I am his parent, his authority figure, and even though he lives with his grandparents, that does not negate the fact that I am still his mother and he has to listen and obey.

not-your-friend-because-i-love-youI love my kids…but I am not their friend. I give them the boundaries and rules that I do to keep them safe. To help them learn how to work with others and to teach them how to behave in a way that is socailly acceptable, regardless of who they are with at the time. But staying firm witth them is hard…so keeping my mantra of “I am not their friend, I am their mother” going in my mind as I parent, as I discipline, as I spend quality time with them is what is going to help keep me strong in my decisions and firm in my boundaries.

 

Hard Choices and Parental Guilt

They make you second guess everything. They make you sit back and mull over all of the events leading up to the need for said choice. They make you rethink everything you have ever done when it comes to making that hard choice and they leave you wondering if the choice made was the right one once you actually make it!

My hard choice is still a hard choice. I’m over the second guessing myself, because I know in my heart that I made the right one…but it is still hard emotionally. Emotionally, I am torn. I am torn between what I know is right and what I want. But what I want is not based upon anything other than soothing my own emotional discomfort.

My hard decision was this: allowing my son to stay with my parents when my little family moved from my parents home into our own home in a different school district and county. Truth be told, it was a positive decision for him. My son is happy. He is doing well in school. He is making good choices and learning to do things that he needs to learn. Why did I allow him to stay? Well, he finally felt settled into a highschool and I didn’t want to move him. He is surrounded by friends that are good influences. He gets to be the only child that he wants to be while still maintaining a relationship with his younger siblings. But most importantly, he is happy.

I, on the otherhand, am pretty torn up. I miss my kid. I miss his goofiness. I miss his jokes and telling me all about some new game he is into or how he is trying something new with his lizards. I miss him being there in the morning and at night. Being physically seperate from him for an extended period of time like this is not okay and I feel guilt. I feel massive guilt.

Honestly, the massive guilt is probably why I feel so crappy. I really am thrilled that my son is happy and healthy and doing well. I am so fortunate to have parents who love my son so much that they would be okay with him living with them on a permanent basis. But that guilt…it’s brutal. And it eats at me at every possible moment.

I feel guilt for not being able to provide for my kid the way he needs. I feel guilt for not having the kind of relationship with my son that I had hoped we would have. I feel guilt for allowing someone other than myself to care for him. He is my first. The one who made me a mother 16 years ago. A young mother. And I think that is where it all comes to a point. I was a young mother. Not all young mothers have the same relationship with their children as I have with my son. Some grow to be inseperable. My son formed that bond with my mother rather than me, I think, because I was so young when I had him. I was barely more than a child-not even a month past my 20th birthday-when I had him. I needed her more than I knew and being a mother was something I had not planned on doing until faced with it realizing I couldn’t NOT be a mother because of what was in my own heart versus what society expected of me. And so I had him and cherished him (I still do) and I made the hard decision to allow him to live away from me.

I couldn’t ask for two better people than my parents to teach him, though. I am beyond blessed that they love him so much and are willing to look out for him and teach him and help him to become a good man. There is no lack of appreciation there, or gratitude, for their selflessness and generosity.

But this is hard. Harder than I ever imagined it would be. And even though I know this is what is best for my child, and as a parent I want to do what is best, it still hurts.

Teenagers…Sigh

raising-teenagers

 

I LOVE my kids. LOVE THEM. But they can push those buttons and do ALL the things that drive me insane. I joke that they are in a contest to see who can put me in a straight jacket first, but honestly, it feels like I am teetering on the precipice of insanity 99.9% of the time.

parenting-insanity

Can we talk pre-teen/teenage girls?

Are they *ALWAYS* this squirrelly? Are they *always* this emotional? Must they *ALWAYS* pick a fight with their siblings over *absolutely NOTHING* and then get mad when called out??

The answer to all of the above is a loud and resounding Y E S. Yes, they are. Yes, they must. It is ingrained, I think, in the DNA and when they hit a certain age, all reason goes out the window and it is an out and out free for all of emotions and actions and behaviors.

 

Complete and total chaos and unpredictability. ALL the emotional rollercoasters, all the drama, all of the hormones….ALL OF IT IS HARD!!!

phoebe-madness

 

This was me. This past week and weekend. This is almost how I had to handle the girls. I thought I was going to go insane!

But they survived to make me crazy another day. As did I. And of course, I am sure the rest of this week, should I play my cards right, will be almost a repeat of this past week. Exciting, eh?

parenting-teenagersI guess my point in all of this is that where there is insanity, where there is conflict, once has to find the humor. Humor has been getting me through a TON of parenting situations. Because sometimes, all you can do is sit back and laugh at what is going on. Because getting mad doesn’t work. Getting sad doesn’t work. But laughter…well, laughter can help to soothe the savagery and help my progeny live to make me crazy another day.

Raising teenagers is tough, y’all. No lie.