Parenting is the most thankless job in the world. Yes it is a job and your job scope changes on a daily basis. From the moment of conception you tell yourself that you will be a perfect mother. You go out and buy books to read up on parenting. Every ones parenting style differs, and you tell yourself you will never be like your mother. Then the bubble bursts when that squalling little thing is placed in your arms, you panic and wonder what the hell you have gotten yourself into. By time the next child comes, you find yourself building a bonfire using all those parenting books.
From the beginning your patience is tested on a daily basis and there are some days you think you might lose your sanity. From the incessant crying in the middle of the night to the toddler stage where you are defied every step of the way. A nice little tap on the butt is the only way to handle things and you’re the one who ends up crying. You spanked your child and feel really guilty. All through the years of development into the teenage years, the yelling the screaming the whining (all yours) is enough to have you running to the doctor for Prozac and one day you realise that, damn somewhere along the way you have turned into your mother. The temper tantrums in the grocery store have you hiding amongst the vegetables pretending it’s not your kid. Then one morning you wake up and look in the mirror and wonder who that wild eyed, wild haired woman is only to realize it’s you. You used to be such a sharp dresser and you had a career but now your attire of choice is mom jeans and your husband’s faded out shirts. Your career has gone down the crapper and turned into a life sentence. You begin to realize that this is the craziest job that you ever took on, no pay, no appreciation, long hours and it lasts a life time.
You muddle along hoping you have not caused irreparable damage to your kid, in fact you are the one who has been damaged, realising this as you find yourself lying on the floor in a foetal position blubbering to yourself and that man you fell in love with, well you’d just like to give him a good kick in the nuts. All your good intentions of yesteryear fade away and you hope your kid would hurry up and finish school and go to college, but wait, how are you going to pay for college? That bank account you opened for your kid, well you’ll be lucky if you save enough to buy text books for college, never mind tuition fees. Then one day the worst happens, that happy go lucky child you brought into the world has become a sullen teenager who slinks away to their room and becomes uncommunicative and everything you do is lame. They start using a language you don’t understand and the cell phone becomes an extension of their hand. You take your kid shopping for clothes because they insist they have nothing to wear and you realize that your kid’s jeans cost more than your whole outfit. Hell the price of your kid’s jeans is enough to feed a starving third world country for goodness sakes. Any real conversation with your kid during this time always starts with “I dunno, can you drive me to the mall?” When you have the audacity to say no it’s either an argument or a look and if looks could kill you’d surely keel over dead. There are days when after a round with your teenager they threatened to run away from home, you offer to pack their bags. Everyday there’s a minor war going on in the house. Either between you and your kid or your kid and their siblings and you have to wade in like a trooper to get things under control to make sure they don’t destroy the house or kill each other. Your peace and quiet is a thing of the past and you find yourself wishing they’d hurry up and grow up and move out of the house.
Then when things have quieted down you pour yourself a good stiff drink trying to get to the happy place, which you find yourself doing more often. You sit and ponder and wonder why the hell you didn’t opt to have sterilisation. After a while as the alcohol slowly takes hold you begin to think clearly and realize they will never, ever leave you.
From the beginning your patience is tested on a daily basis and there are some days you think you might lose your sanity. From the incessant crying in the middle of the night to the toddler stage where you are defied every step of the way. A nice little tap on the butt is the only way to handle things and you’re the one who ends up crying. You spanked your child and feel really guilty. All through the years of development into the teenage years, the yelling the screaming the whining (all yours) is enough to have you running to the doctor for Prozac and one day you realise that, damn somewhere along the way you have turned into your mother. The temper tantrums in the grocery store have you hiding amongst the vegetables pretending it’s not your kid. Then one morning you wake up and look in the mirror and wonder who that wild eyed, wild haired woman is only to realize it’s you. You used to be such a sharp dresser and you had a career but now your attire of choice is mom jeans and your husband’s faded out shirts. Your career has gone down the crapper and turned into a life sentence. You begin to realize that this is the craziest job that you ever took on, no pay, no appreciation, long hours and it lasts a life time.
You muddle along hoping you have not caused irreparable damage to your kid, in fact you are the one who has been damaged, realising this as you find yourself lying on the floor in a foetal position blubbering to yourself and that man you fell in love with, well you’d just like to give him a good kick in the nuts. All your good intentions of yesteryear fade away and you hope your kid would hurry up and finish school and go to college, but wait, how are you going to pay for college? That bank account you opened for your kid, well you’ll be lucky if you save enough to buy text books for college, never mind tuition fees. Then one day the worst happens, that happy go lucky child you brought into the world has become a sullen teenager who slinks away to their room and becomes uncommunicative and everything you do is lame. They start using a language you don’t understand and the cell phone becomes an extension of their hand. You take your kid shopping for clothes because they insist they have nothing to wear and you realize that your kid’s jeans cost more than your whole outfit. Hell the price of your kid’s jeans is enough to feed a starving third world country for goodness sakes. Any real conversation with your kid during this time always starts with “I dunno, can you drive me to the mall?” When you have the audacity to say no it’s either an argument or a look and if looks could kill you’d surely keel over dead. There are days when after a round with your teenager they threatened to run away from home, you offer to pack their bags. Everyday there’s a minor war going on in the house. Either between you and your kid or your kid and their siblings and you have to wade in like a trooper to get things under control to make sure they don’t destroy the house or kill each other. Your peace and quiet is a thing of the past and you find yourself wishing they’d hurry up and grow up and move out of the house.
Then when things have quieted down you pour yourself a good stiff drink trying to get to the happy place, which you find yourself doing more often. You sit and ponder and wonder why the hell you didn’t opt to have sterilisation. After a while as the alcohol slowly takes hold you begin to think clearly and realize they will never, ever leave you.
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