Ponder no longer why adults slowly ease in to alcoholism around say their mid-forties…it is because they have teenagers. Seriously, AA should add a 13 step to their program…..We have come to believe that we were driven to drink by our futile efforts to communicate with our teenagers and admitted that the exact nature of our wrongs were to have unprotected marital sex about 16 years ago.
In an effort to understand the misnomer Sweet 16 I have researched many parenting books, which are truly useful only to bang against your own head or toss at the backside of your teenager as they walk away in a huff mumbling under their breath.
Karma numerical guidelines provide the most accurate insight. Number 16 offers the test of optimism and faith; it represents the misapplication of sexual energy, adversity, secrecy and aloofness. Not a spiritual guru myself, but these numerology folks have teenagers.
This darling little girl that jumped in your bed because the “scary” man (read: Unsolved Mysteries program) was on TV, the same one who gleefully camped in the yard catching frogs with her dad, the same one that rushed to deliver your homemade birthday card now believes you are the AntiChrist.
School is no longer an academic experience, it exists merely as a social arena to plan evening and weekend activities. Studying 12 hours for the driver’s license exam and 12 minutes for an english test will be the educational effort example for high school. Further evidence will be presented as a sudden aversion to math, unless calcuations are required to determine the amount of cash they need from you. You are THE NEW HUMAN ATM.
Rooms that you spent a week turning in to a palace for a princess, now resemble a pig sty complete with food scraps and odors to keep out anyone with a sense of smell. Cries of woe are frequently heard from this disaster area declaring that she has NO CLOTHES. Apparently 10 pairs of jeans, 36 shirts, 6 dresses, 3 capris, 8 skirts, 15 pairs of shoes and 5 pairs of shorts now represent the equivalent of having NO CLOTHES.
The little girl who used to sneak in to your closet for fashion shows would sooner gouge out her own eye that consult your opinion on wardrode options. Often you find yourself shouting to the driveway “you are not going anywhere dressed like that”, only to be reminded that you must be confused because she was only getting something from her car. And yes, she always carries her purse and car keys when retrieving CD’s from her automobile.
The four major food groups are now: pizza, dr. pepper, cookies and anything from the golden arches palace. Sleeping is tossed aside in favor of necessary tasks like instant messaging, TV viewing and marathon cell phone sessions, unless of course you point out a chore needing her attention.
You no longer possess a working knowledge of anything, you understand nothing and possess an IQ lower than a turtle. It is miracle of some deity that you have lived past the age of 40 and can actually shower, consume food and operate a toilet. (The King’s opinion on my operation of plumbing fixtures has no bearing, in fact, his genetic contribution to The Princess has probably brought us to this point.)
When you tire of choosing your battle, the aforementioned incredible raging hormonal one will do something so small and amazing your heart will melt. Let me explain:
BATTLE FOR TODAY: Rationalizing that strapless blue satin party dress with black lace is perhaps a tad inappropriate for church service.
HEART MELTING MOMENT: Scanning The Princess’s MySpace page and reading “The Parentals” in the spot next to My Heroes.
Contrary to rumors, my picture should not be placed in Webster’s dictionary as a photo illustration for the word stupid, I am aware these heartfelt moments are few and far between. For the other 364.5 days of the year I have Margaritas close at hand.
Yesterday. Just yesterday I, too, became the mother of a teen. Fear has overwhelmed me! Of course, I don’t know what the big deal is, because she’s been acting like a teen for about 12 years!
Great post. At least I know I’m not alone!
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