In my 15 years of mothering, I've gotten pretty good at feeling like I sorta know what I'm doing.
The kids have survived all these years, right?
But I have decided that getting my middle child through middle school is going to result in me developing a serious drinking problem.
I can't even begin to think what a nightmare getting through high school will be.
I think at some point, I will move into an apartment and leave my husband and G to their own devices, figuring out how to fix dinner together.
That's assuming the stress of raising this kid to near adulthood doesn't actually kill me.
I love my son, but he is an ass.
Some of his assness is because he is 12.
Some of his assness is because he has OCD/anxiety and takes his frustrations with these out on the people he knows will love him no matter what.
Some of his assness is simply his personality.
He is the trifecta of assness.
Tonight he did one question in an ELA packet.
One question took one hour, mostly because he was being an ass.
He wants to mansplain how to write open-response answers with text evidence like I have no freaking clue what I'm doing.
Like I haven't read and annotated this book--which I have.
Like I haven't taught this book to middle schoolers--which I have.
He asks for my help and then argues with me while I'm trying to help him.
It's like all the stuff I learned about parenting my daughter doesn't actually count because she and G could not be more different.
I didn't worry about her getting through middle school.
I didn't become one of "those moms" that get notifications from the grading portal all the time.
I didn't have to go to conferences on non-conference days to figure out why the actual heck my male child cannot seem to get his paper turned in when the kid doesn't even use his locker.
I am now all of those things, and I hate it.
The kids have survived all these years, right?
But I have decided that getting my middle child through middle school is going to result in me developing a serious drinking problem.
I can't even begin to think what a nightmare getting through high school will be.
I think at some point, I will move into an apartment and leave my husband and G to their own devices, figuring out how to fix dinner together.
That's assuming the stress of raising this kid to near adulthood doesn't actually kill me.
I love my son, but he is an ass.
Some of his assness is because he is 12.
Some of his assness is because he has OCD/anxiety and takes his frustrations with these out on the people he knows will love him no matter what.
Some of his assness is simply his personality.
He is the trifecta of assness.
Tonight he did one question in an ELA packet.
One question took one hour, mostly because he was being an ass.
He wants to mansplain how to write open-response answers with text evidence like I have no freaking clue what I'm doing.
Like I haven't read and annotated this book--which I have.
Like I haven't taught this book to middle schoolers--which I have.
He asks for my help and then argues with me while I'm trying to help him.
It's like all the stuff I learned about parenting my daughter doesn't actually count because she and G could not be more different.
I didn't worry about her getting through middle school.
I didn't become one of "those moms" that get notifications from the grading portal all the time.
I didn't have to go to conferences on non-conference days to figure out why the actual heck my male child cannot seem to get his paper turned in when the kid doesn't even use his locker.
I am now all of those things, and I hate it.
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