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Kristen is a home­maker, home­schooler, and a home­keeper. Her experience includes nineteen years of practice, raising three kids, a husband, and a dog. Writing about her life helps her stay sane. She believes that sharing stories helps others by providing opportunities to share advice (and helpful hints) about homeschooling, and raising kids on the autism spectrum, while supporting marriages and families that are striving to thrive.



We're All a Little Mad Here

 

Once upon a time, I was the mother of little people. I was exhausted. I didn’t shower every day, or every other day, and a ponytail/messy bun was the hairstyle dujour. I could not see the end of being physically and bone-weary tired from taking care of little humans, and keeping them safe.

And then I had teenagers.

I went through a phase recently that had me convinced I needed to re-read every parenting book I had ever read, and then I probably needed to read a few more. I mean, seriously, how do I manage to say the wrong thing. every. single. time. I speak to my daughters? Furthermore, I totally have the worst timing ever. I may not physically be warding off burn injuries, flying from second story window injuries, or window blind injuries, but, I am still physically and, more to the point, mentally tired.

Now, I’m a little bit mad, here, but I am also a little bit sane. The jury is still out on the smartness factor of my brain, but I have not ever been told I’m certifiably crazy. I’ve tried, actually, and I’ve had years of therapy, but I do not have a “you-are-out-of-your-mind” diagnosis. So, far be it from me to point out the obvious, but I know for sure that I can drive a car, I’ve graduated from a four year college (in nursing, mind you), and I can keep track of homeschooling my kids. So, how is it that I know nothing? Have I gone through some type of mind sucking machine?

 

 

My children are so much smarter than I am, and they know everything. This makes me tired. I so love repeating myself thirty-seven times a day to get the chores done, do the school work, and put on deodorant. I also adore the fact that I can tell my teens that drinking Mountain Dew (why is that stuff not classified as a legal drug?!) will keep you awake all night. It’s not like I’ve never been to college (or have a nursing degree).

“Mom! I didn’t sleep at all last night!” said my youngest precious Sunday morning when I had to wake her up for church.

“Well,” I answered, knowingly, “that is what drinking Mountain Dew does to you.”

She looks at me with that worried little thinking face for a few moments before shaking her head no. It took about everything in me to return the gaze with any kind of neutrality.

“No, Mom, I don’t think that was it.”

Oh, really? Caffeine and sugar don’t tell your brain to stay up? I read somewhere that arguing with thirteen year olds over obvious things only make the mom more angry, and the child just adds to their brain that mom doesn’t know anything.

When I facetime with the boy-man-child who is away at college, he keeps the camera on his eyes only. Tommy has a rule (that I have no real way of reinforcing), that he has to shave daily, and can’t have facial hair until his acne clears up.

“Tommy,” I say, “let me see your face.”

“You can see it,” he replies.

“No, your whole face,” I answer.

“That’s as far as the phone goes.”

Like I said, I don’t know anything anymore. And, I’m tired. I am mentally jousting with smart kids every single day, now, and they are a savvy bunch, these children. Not only do they know everything, they also think that any experience I may have with any kind of issue doesn’t count because that was before the internet. Right. I lived back in the dawn of history. I got it.

 

 

What does one do when their children know more than they do? I’m trying to parent and learn all of history every day. Apparently, I have to discipline and be mindful of all the feelings (their feelings, mind you), or I’m causing brain damage. I also have to have a PhD in psychology, psychiatry, botany, and child development in order to raise humans that will be productive in society. Did I mention I’m tired? By the way, I still have to tell my youngest to look both ways before crossing the street, my middle is driving (!), and my oldest is living away from home, so, I’m still trying to keep everyone safe. So, even the “well-at-least-I-kept-them-alive-during-their-early-years” phase, is also now a “I-pray-they-can-stay-alive-during-the-teenage-phase.”

There is no rest for the weary.

That you get up and wrangle, love, nag, teach, love, and keep alive the children in your care every day is worth a celebration. When you fall into your bed each night, weary with worry, exhausted and overextended, just try to rest in the fact that the day was successful. If you aren’t dead, you are successful. If you are still parenting and raising a family, you are part of something special! Read some books, but don’t live or die by them. Take all advice with a grain of salt, because your family is unique, and you know them best. While your children may think you are as dumb as the day is long, just remember that it’s a phase. It’ll pass. One day, they will be twenty-five and needing your advice again. At least, that’s what I hear. I’m not there, yet. Apparently, I’m still in the ignorant timeframe of parenthood. I know nothing.

 

 

So, hang in there, parents! Keep calm, repeat each morning and evening that you are super-woman or super-man, and parent on!

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