Yeh, I have been writing a bit of the usual lately. You know: work/life balance (which probably does not exist), how I ate too much Halloween candy (who didn’t?), and spiffing up my yoga wardrobe with some lulu lemons (can you believe that I do not own one piece of lulu?).
Since, I am feeling a bit edgy today, I am going to venture off the beaten path. Sometimes this cannot be helped or avoided.
Simply at the mention of this, my mom is already on her seat thinking that I got hooked up with the wrong set of blogger friends. I mean, why cannot I just write beautiful parenting blogs about how much I love my kids and sprinkle in some fabulous reviews of products that I do not really love.
Well, I cannot do that. That would not be me. Who am I? A 35+ year-old mom of two boys, a tween and almost a tween, who writes this blog, invented a product launching next year, and dodges PTA involvement. I am married to the former out of groove dad, who at least tries to be ‘make me a list and I will do it dad’ lately.
I know my mom secretly panics over who I may or may not offend by the blog. My mom is Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, and she does reside in some Disney subsidiary of the universe (Pittsburgh) in which everyone is nice. By the way, did you know that toast is nice?
Anyway, back to the matter at hand. My edginess and need to vent today. It is that tween and almost tween. I mean this stage is hard. It is hard to participate, hard to watch, and it is nothing like the sleepless days and nights of a newborn (which I found intolerable until I gave a bottle to the baby).
First, there is the obvious: I am a mom to 2 boys. You know what that means? Well, I cannot check if they are ‘clean’ anymore after the shower. That’s right, My boys would rather risk smelly underarms and God only knows what else before I see them naked these days.
Second, our house is like a testosterone filled balloon. I cannot consult on hygiene and cleanliness, but I can discuss the fact that on the 80’s XM station, the song “Dancing in the Sheets’ is about sex. Note to self: No more 80’s station with 8-year-old.
Third, insert the friends. Forget being left out of the sandbox, we now have NFL quality regulations, violations, and plays at recess that dominate the mood of the day. Forget the days of catching a glimpse of your kindergartener on the tire swing because now there are touch backs and half backs and take backs and whatever other word used in conjunction with backs other than I got your back.
Fourth, this is the one that gets me every time. The photo dilemma. Remember putting your kids in cute outfits, Halloween costumes, and their holiday best for that one gorgeous photo that you can proudly post on Facebook. Well, tween boys do not do that for their mom. Tween boys stick on their best ripped T-shirt or ‘wife beater’ tank and strike a pose similar to Mac Miller or Wiz Khalifa. I cannot wait to send out this year’s rap inspired holiday card. Maybe Not.
Fifth and Finally, is the part that I love. With all the posturing and tough exterior, inside tweens are just little boys trying to make sense of all the changes in their bodies, the mixed messages that they receive from the world (and girls), and at the end of the day, they still like to be tucked in……When I hear ‘Mom, can you tuck me in and turn out the light?’ I know that these are still my little guys.
It is hard not to take the tween stage and force it into the teens. When we see little boys trying to act grown up, it is difficult not to mistake them for teenagers, but they are NOT. The biggest challenge is to allow them to have their innocence as long as they can hold onto it.
It is extremely difficult to make bedtimes, enforce study habits, take a look at homework, and advise being nice to the new kid in the class. It is hard to say no to a Facebook profile before age 13 when Facebook says it is officially allowed, BUT, these are just kids and not adults, so we must push on with being a parent and pick which battles and lessons are crucial.
So, the holiday card will go out with the future rap stars of our family, and what really matters will prevail. End of story — Toast is nice, Parents do NOT have to be…..