Guest Post: Delilah at Confessions of a Semi-Domesticated Mama
If you haven't come across Delilah's blog, you've been missing out on some funny stuff! I am thrilled to introduce her to you. Be sure to visit her blog and read some of her posts. She is a kick in the pants!
Position Available: Mother of Tween
Seeking a slightly unbalanced mother figure with extremely high self-esteem for demanding, no paying position requiring enhanced crowd control skills, advanced peace keeping training and a willingness to be blamed for everything regardless of fault. Candidates must possess excellent bargaining skills, an innate sense of impending doom, and the ability to drop everything at a moment's notice to do the bidding of the Tween. Must be willing to work variable hours, including evenings, weekends- pretty much 24 hours a day, 7 days a week with no vacation, sick or personal time. Frequent chauffer duty is required. The ability to navigate emotional mine fields, tolerate excessive amounts of bad attitude and overlook mood swings is helpful. Candidate must possess the stamina of a pack mule and be willing to tolerate a frequently hostile work environment.
That is apparently the job I applied for all those years ago when my son was a fresh faced, sweet smelling, cuddly baby who laughed and smiled often. Unfortunately, nobody clued me in to what my future held while I was busy enjoying the baby phase. Nobody told me that there would come a time when he would be an uncommunicative, sullen, and hormonal beast. I grew up with a sister. I am well aware of what to expect from my girls once they hit the tween years. I guess I figured it would be easier to be a boy at that stage. My husband assures me that being a boy is just as hard when you are in that awkward phase. Personally I don’t know what could be more difficult than finding out your body is going to randomly produce blood once a month for the next 40 years but whatever. He said something about testosterone and surges and blah blah blah. I stopped listening when I caught a glimpse of the chocolate cake on the counter.
These past few months into tween-dom have been very challenging for me. The day my son, Ty, came home and informed us that he was old enough to stay home alone was a shocker. He’s 11 and a card-carrying member of the male gender. He won’t be ready to stay home alone until his wife tells him he can. Next came the smells. There is nothing quite like the smell of a tween boy. If you don’t have one, please take my word for it. I rushed right out and purchased a variety of deodorants, shampoos, body washes and the all-important Axe body spray. I secretly stuffed odor eaters inside his sneakers. I installed a heavy-duty air freshener inside his bedroom. You know what I didn’t count on? The reluctance of a tween boy to take a shower. Every night ended with the same argument. Two hours of asking him to take a shower leads into yelling, screaming and threatening until he finally huffs and puffs his way up the stairs. Approximately 38 seconds later, he is once again standing in the hallway, still smelly and now naked and wet because he forgot his towel and his pajamas. There are not many things in life more traumatizing to a mom than being confronted with her Tween son’s junk on display. I may never recover.
Then came the news he has a girlfriend. I’m sorry, what? I can’t tell you how I responded to that tidbit of information because I was curled up in my closet in the fetal position, sucking my thumb and crying. I am not ready to venture into the world of girlfriends. Girls are mean. Tween girls are really mean. I know this because I was one. When I finally crawled out of my closet and was able to form a coherent thought, I questioned him about his new girlfriend. He looked at me as though I’d grown an extra head and hit the door running. Apparently, it’s no longer cool to talk to your mother. In fact, he has started making statements to the tune of ‘please don’t embarrass me in the store like you usually do’ before we venture into The Wal*Mart. I’m offended. With the obvious exception of the time I couldn’t stop giggling in his Sex Ed Class, I’m reasonably well behaved in public. Last week I found myself responding ‘you have no idea the ways I could embarrass you son’ and immediately set about brainstorming various forms of humiliation. Here are just a few I came up with in the spur of the moment.
Break into a rousing rendition of Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believin’ while in public. Preferably somewhere that we might see a handful of his schoolmates.
Sign up to chaperone the upcoming field trip to the Health Center where they are surely going to learn more about the process of procreation.
Insist on walking him all the way to his classroom each morning and leaving him with a big kiss and hug. Repeatedly say ‘Mommy loves you’ as I’m walking down the hallway to leave.
Wear only pajamas to drive him to school and make sure to exit the car to help him get out and put on his book bag.
Invite all his friends over for a surprise dance party and then bust a move on the Xbox 360 Just Dance 3 game
What do you think? I think any of those things ensure my nomination for Mom of the Year.