Ages and Stages

I honestly think the only "calm" in Motherhood comes between the ages of six and ten. That's it. 

No really, that's it. 

You finally get done with diapers and bottles and tantrums, nose wiping and butt wiping...Scraping macaroni off the floor, cleaning puke buckets when kids are sick, sleepless nights...Helping tie shoes and zip coats...

And then there you are... In a calm. 

Your kids are semi independent  they can pour their own damn cereal, make their own sandwiches ..They entertain themselves and wipe their own butts. They go to bed between 7-8pm leaving you with that hour or two of sanity time before you go to bed yourself...Doesn't matter if they sleep in because YOU now can...(remember, they can pour their own cereal!)

 Ah yes...The ages between 6-10 are heaven.

Then slowly that scary preteen starts emerging. Suddenly they want to pick out their own clothes, do their own hair and beg you to be allowed to put blue streaks in it *sigh*...They no longer watch cartoons or the Disney movies you buy...The storming off and door slamming begin...You slowly realize they speak another language...You hear words and phrases you have never heard before...It's all very foreign and strange.

And then BAM. You have a teenager. 

Some one who thinks you never understand how they feel...Or you are to old to remember what it's like. You get the eye rolls and exasperated looks...The "whatever's!" and "so's?". 

They turn into creatures that eat everything in sight and you wonder if you can afford to keep them...They no longer hear what you are saying because their ear phones are in, the music is too loud...They keep horrible hours...Stay up late, wake up even later.

And it all happens so fast you never really have time to prepare for it.

I have good kids. Really good kids. My kids are polite and respectful, they are fun to be around and hang out with. There is a lot of laughter in our home. I am blessed with a great family.

But raising teenagers makes me nervous. I don't feel ready for the path we have started down. I over think and obsess over every decision. It feels overwhelming at times. As a parent you just want your child to be happy and successful in life. Getting them there, that is the hard part.

The line I give my kids the most often is "I remember when I was your age"...And up until the other night I truly thought I did. I was pretty sure I remembered everything about being 15. Until, I had a talk with Raist about his report card....

Raist has been struggling a little with his grades. This first year in high

school is a huge adjustment for kids. They go from grade 1-8 without the fear of failing. Teachers stopped holding kids back a grade years ago. So now everyone passes, whether you know the material or not.
No one fails.

Everyone does a fabulous job. Every one gets a "you're wonderful" certificate at the assemblies...Everyone wins a ribbon on track and field day, everyone makes the team...It's bullshit. Talk about screwing kids up! What ever happened to putting in a little effort and working hard...Earning a pat on the back for a job well done instead of being handed one like it is owed to you. I think all that nonsense does is set kids up for failure. They think wonderful things are owed to them, that they deserve it. They don't understand the concept of losing, or not being the best. They can no longer handle any type of failure no matter how small.

 When I was in school if you didn't win the damn race you didn't get a freakin ribbon...And guess what, we SURVIVED! If you didn't make the team it was because you just weren't good enough, plain and simple, and you had to suck it up, go home and practice. You had to earn it.

*sigh*

Ha, I didn't even mean for that rant to be in here, but now that it is I'm leaving it, because it's true.

So anyway, I have been on Raistlin's ass about school. Pulling his grades up, not failing anything. I don't think he quite grasps the concept that teachers in high school don't give a damn if you pass their class or not. If you don't do the work, that's your problem not theirs! No effort, no pass.

 I almost died when he told me he is failing cooking class. COOKING CLASS?! For the love of God all you have to do to pass that one is show up! I have hounded him and pestered him...Told him I know it's tough but you need to show more of an effort. You shouldn't be failing anything. Blah. Blah. Blah.

So then I wanted to prove to him I understood. That I struggled as well in grade nine but did what I was suppose to do and passed my classes. So I dug around in my boxes until I found my old report cards. And I must say, what I found was shocking. I spent time shuffling through papers and double checking to make sure they were really mine and not some one elses because I just couldn't believe what I was seeing.

I failed classes.
And the ones I did some how manage to pass, I got just that, a "Pass," a "P", which is only one tiny step up from an "F"

 How in the hell did I not remember that? I honestly didn't remember slacking off that badly!! Oh, and that's not even the worst of it! Take a look at my absences!!!! That would be those giant numbers over to the side there!

And mind you those are just numbers from one semester! I sat on my bed last night looking at this stunned. Where in the hell was I in high school because I certainly wasn't in class! lol...And then I remembered. Ah yes, those were the days we hopped the bus to Victoria and went roller blading in the Inner Harbor. Or we walked along the Break water or sat down at Circle point reading and watching the ocean.
That's where I was in grade 9.

The good ol days....*Ahem*...Anyway...

In case you were all wondering I did graduate from high school! After that first year I found my balance...Knew when I could cut class and when I couldn't. Mind you I didn't show Raist my report cards, not the "absence's" anyway...Because so far he doesn't have any unexplained absences and I don't want to give him any ideas. He has to come up with his own ideas!

So there it was, after all that lecturing about passing classes and working hard, it came to my attention that I too slacked a little. I too struggled to find my way. I too failed and learned a lesson from it and then did better. I too made mistakes and didn't take things seriously enough.

I too, was a teenager.

And so moving forward I plan to still harasses the hell out of Raistlin, because that's my job...But also to make sure when I dish out the line "I remember being your age" that I actually do remember it. And that I remember it the way it happened and not just the way I think it happened.

And in closing I would like to say a big "I'm sorry" to my parents. For all the times I sat there rolling my eyes, huffing and puffing, while you talked to me about what was important in life. For all the times I hung my head and pretended not to listen. To all the times I smirked when I thought you didn't have a clue what you were talking about. For thinking you yourself were never really my age, so you could not possibly understand how I felt. To mumbling the word "Nothing" when you were worried about me and asked what was wrong...For all those things, and a hell of a lot more, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry because now I am standing on your side of the fence...And It's not easy.

And having my own children do those very things to me obviously makes me realize that it hurt your heart the same way it hurts mine when it happens to me. Now I see that there must have been times where you walked away with tears in your eyes and an ache in your heart, with the thoughts "what should I do"  Or, "how can I help?" running through your mind.

And I want you to know I love you guys. You and Dad were the best parents a kid could ask for. And I am sorry for the teenagerish treatment you endured from me. You guys are my best friends...I can only hope that one day my kids can say that about me.

Love you Mummsy and Dad.