Tag Archives: high school graduates

Kids, I Love You. Now Cut the Crap.

brady bunch

A friend shot me a note the other day which read simply, “Can you please write a blog about boys pissing on the toilet seat?” …   To which I immediately replied …

 

“No, but I can write one about boys pissing into cups and Gatorade bottle and leaving them in their bedrooms … and then hurling them out the window when their mom loses her shit over finding them…”

 

(My friends know:  this is 100% truth and the reason my husband will not drink out of plastic cups anymore.)

 

Honestly.  So many stories still untold.  It’s like the Naked City – only there’s usually actual nakedness (because kids can’t find towels because they’re still wet and scattered on various floors).

 

There’s a reason why all these gems float around my head and never make it to the page.  I’ve found myself in that interesting yet ironic state of Perpetually Pissed and Profoundly Proud Parenting:  when my entire emotional state fluctuates between one extreme and the other.

 

Kids cause that.

 

I don’t know what to write about half the time because by the time I’m done revealing reasons of happiness or reflection I usually want to throat punch someone.

 

If you think about it, it’s a pretty remarkable paradox.  And no matter the ages of my kids, and despite how many times I remind myself that much of what now happens in life is out of my hands, these kids still have complete control over which way that pendulum swings.

 

My 3rd kid just graduated high school and of course, it was the momentous, magnificent whirlwind of ceremony it should have been.  (Disclaimer:  this coming from a mom who has repeatedly deemed graduating high school No Big Deal because really, aren’t you supposed to?)  But the Kid did alright.  Acceptance into a damn good school, a couple of nice scholarships and a bona fide bang-up senior year chock full of awesome memories.  My heart’s been full for seemingly months at a go and I will not lie, it’s been a fine, fine time for us.

 

Welp.  My boast balloon burst as soon as I got the text message at work asking if I’d left him a template for the Thank You cards he was writing following his grad party. A template.  Followed by his query, “How do I address an envelope?”  Good God.   Off to college he goes?

 

To quote a very agitated tween, I just can’t even.

 

Bringing up the adolescence rear in our household, my youngest, too, turned his sophomore year into an impressive array of academic and athletic accolades.  Really, he’s the Mayor.  So adored.  So praised.  But yet astounding that he hasn’t yet choked on the ridiculously short leash we have him on due to all the stupid choices he keeps making.  He seems to keep forgetting he is our fourth child and we have seen this movie.  And we know how it ends.  Lather, rinse, repeat.

 

To quote another very agitated tween, I’m shaking my head.

 

But wait — the Jeckyll and Hyde of emotions isn’t limited to the confines of my home anymore either, for even those that have flown my coop (some states may refer to them as “adults”) are adept at keeping my angst ablaze.

 

Like … my oldest, off in his first apartment (yay!), carrying a full-time job AND full-time school course load (hooray!), excitedly bragging about booking flights for his first “grown-up vacation” (wow!) …   which he planned … on the very weekend of his sister’s college graduation.  Are you kidding me?

 

Or … my daughter (she of the above reference)  … announcing upon said graduation (pride!) that to begin her first job (congrats!) she would be driving cross country (what?) … to  Utah (ummmmmmm)  … alone (whaaaaaat???) … and …  not to worry .. because everything will be fine

 

(End note:  in the end, she did not.  Due to sheer logistics, not parental pleas. Naturally.)

 

Sigh.  Remember when we thought baby colic and constipation was a thing?  (*slaps forehead)

 

A very wise friend once declared “Little kids, little problems.”

 

These aren’t problems, I know.

 

They’re just slices of life that keep that damn pendulum swinging.

 

And parents already know:   life’s pretty amazing dodging that thing.

 

 

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Tina Drakakis blogs at Eyerollingmom and was featured in the 2014 Boston production of “Listen to Your Mother: Giving Motherhood a Microphone.” Her work has been featured in NPR’s “This I Believe” radio series yet she places “Most Popular 1984” on top of her list of achievements.  (Next would be the home improvement reality TV show of 2003 but her kids won’t let her talk about that anymore).   A witty mother of four, she takes on cyberspace as @Eyerollingmom on Twitter and Eyerollingmom on Facebook. and@Eyerollingmom on Instagram. 

 

 

Keeping the Peace: 5 Things Your High School Graduate Needs to Hear

Teenagers hands playing tug-of-war with used rope

 

 

Nothing screams middle age like having high school graduates for kids.  And nothing screams may-not-make-it-to-old-age like the arguments that ensue with these kids once they’ve tossed a tasseled mortarboard into the air.  If you have the pleasure of living with young adults under your roof, pour a glass and make sure there’s ink in your printer.  Remember seeing your mom’s yellowed Dear Abby column taped to the fridge?  You may want to start up that tradition.

 

If living harmoniously is your goal, then without question, these 5 things need to be said to your young adult:

 

 

You will contribute financially to this household.

You can call it rent, or room and board or even living fees.  But the truth is, something’s got to get coughed up each week and it has little to do with the obvious fact that everything increases with every warm body that is planted in a home.  Food, water, electric, cable, everything.  That’s a no-brainer.  The more important reason for pitching into the household is because you should, that’s why.   If you’re not working hard enough to fork over money each week, then you’re not working hard enough.  Period.  Throw in a few home cooked meals and access to laundry and you’d be up a creek if you had to REALLY pay for all this stuff outside of this home.  Be happy to hand over a minimal yet reasonable amount.  You don’t see it now but this absurd and unfair demand is building character and an appreciation for what things cost, of which you truly have no idea.

 

This is my house, therefore it is MY bedroom.  You get to sleep in it.

You are welcome to enjoy continued privacy in this space that is covered under my mortgage payment, so long as you respect this space.  Foul smells coming out of it render your privacy null and void.  The detection of wet towels, food items or ANY suspicion of conduct unbecoming also nullifies the terms of your privacy.

 

We are your family, not your room mates.

Picking up after yourself is a sign of respect for those who live among you.  Not doing so is a blatant sign of immaturity which indicates you simply do not understand this.  No one wants to see hairs in a sink, step on toenail clippings or find food, utensils, blood, body parts or schmegma in the bathroom.  If people can figure out what you’ve eaten for breakfast based on the remains left on the kitchen counter, you are being rude. The maid is far too busy pruning the money tree out back.  Put stuff away and get rid of your own mess. Common courtesy, that’s all.

 

Rules are in place for respect, not ridicule.

We get it.  We were there once, too.  You’re not the first kid to return from college only to shriek about all the humiliating injustices of your parents.  But if you’ve been given a curfew, it’s likely because you’ve given us reason to give one.  If you’ve been given limits on the car you’re driving, the same holds true.  The easiest fix for this is to start doing what’s requested of you, understand the importance of proving your maturity through actions over words and earn OUR respect.  Want to come and go at your own leisure? Simply buy your own car and pay your own insurance.

 

 

Being over 18 doesn’t make you a grown up. 

Please.  Stop stomping your feet, diploma in hand, and screaming that you’re an adult now.  It only makes us giggle.  The only thing you’ve accomplished to date is getting through high school.  Big whoop.  It’s the 21st century, filled with technology that practically reads the books for you.  You’re supposed to finish high school.   Whatever path you’re on right now doesn’t detract from the reality that you are presently living with your mommy and daddy and you will not – cannot – be considered a grown up under these amusing circumstances.  Until you are financially independent you are decidedly NOT a grown up.   Don’t be mad.  Don’t sulk.  And don’t ever be foolish enough to think the grass is greener elsewhere.  I defy you to find a living situation better than here (yet if you do, I will most certainly help you pack your things).     My motivation is solely love.  I am doing my part in preparing you to be a good wife, mother, or husband, a stellar employee, an upstanding citizen or an under-the-radar inmate.

You.  Are.  Welcome.

Love,

Mom

 

 

 

 

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Tina Drakakis blogs at Eyerollingmom and was just featured in the Boston production of “Listen to Your Mother: Giving Motherhood a Microphone.” Her work has been featured in NPR’s “This I Believe” radio series yet she places “Most Popular 1984” on top of her list of achievements.  (Next would be the home improvement reality TV show of 2003 but her kids won’t let her talk about that anymore)   A witty mother of four, she takes on cyberspace as @Eyerollingmom on Twitter and Eyerollingmom on Facebook. –