Raising teenagers is not for the faint of heart. This I know is true. I’ve raised and are raising a few. I survived raising that first one and much to my relief she turned out to be a pretty damn amazing adult and I am very proud of her. The second child of mine in mere months will be twenty years old…how can that be???…and she is the hardest working, sensible, compassionate young adult I know. So having survived the teen years times two one might think that I would at least have a sense of knowing what I am doing while raising more teens. One might imagine I have the strength to do it.
One would be wrong.
The goings on lately under the Big Top with the teenagers honestly makes me long for the good ol’ days…the days when I had two in diapers and one working on that potty training thing. The days where I would often find myself covered in snot and baby puke. The days where I regarded a late night trip to Safeway as a spa day. I know my darling husband wonders why I would be gone so long. I was meandering up and down every single aisle enjoying the peace and quiet and the dry clothes that I was wearing.
Right now I am missing those days…big time! I would take them all over the snark, the eye rolls and all the really over-the-top crazy shit that has been going on lately. It was so much easier then because there were hugs and kisses…albeit really slimy, snotty kisses. There was the sweet, almost angelic looks on their faces in their slumber when I would stand over their beds staring at them. Those were the times that I reminded myself how blessed I was that they were mine…even if they were driving me to an early grave.
Oh my beautiful angels! How fortunate you are that the good Lord made you so damn cute! I’m going to now stare at your picture for a very long time and try to tune out the slammed doors, the comments on Facebook that you are in a prison and the deafening silence that is the Big Top right now.
And I just might pour myself a glass (or two) of wine!