Parenting Isn't For Cowards.

A soccer mom in Florida shot her teenage kids because they were being mouthy. When I heard the news story it was so crazy that it was almost comical. My first thought was, you mean her kids made it to their teenage years before they started mouthing off? My teenager has turned mouthing off into an art. He’s gotten really good at slinging colorful insults that are so funny I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. He’s also perfected the crazy eyes, rolling them at me every time I speak like I’m ridiculously slow and generally weak minded. It’s not just their mouths that get them in trouble. I have a five-year-old who tries to manage me. She wants me working on her time-table and throws a fit when I use my own watch to plan the day. And my nine-year-old apparently wants me to know exactly where he’s at because he drops clothing, food, and anything else he’s carrying like he’s Hansel leaving a trail for me to find him. All you have to do is follow it with the dust-buster.


Let’s face it. Parenting isn’t for cowards. I didn’t realize, when that first baby was born, that I would never be alone ever again. It’s stressful. Right now I’m writing while my daughter is lying against my back asking me to spell words and get her a glass of milk. I could stop typing and get the milk, but she wouldn’t stay in the kitchen because I’m the Mommy magnet. I can close doors and I can not answer when they call for me, but it doesn’t work. I also didn’t realize that they would fight me all the time. All that constant contact coupled with dealing with their efforts to test boundaries and stretch their wings can put even the most even-tempered woman on edge, but parenting is a joy. Trust me. I read it somewhere.