Tuesday To Tango

My son. My nine-year-old-thinking-he's-15-son. Yeah, that son. The only one I have. The one who I love dearly but is driving me crazy, testing my patience and making me love just the idea of Xanax.

Something happens between ages 8 and 9. Something hormonal, something independence wise. Just something. I'm the stupidest person on the face of this planet in his mind, probably, although he's never voiced that to me. I know nothing, I get questioned about everything. I have to put him in his place about 100 times a day. I'm sucking at parenting a 9 year old.

Nobody tells you how challenging it is to raise them in the pre-tween years. He's searching for that independence and knowledge and is so damn sassy. Then the cycle starts of him being put in his place. And then he gets even sassier. And then I want to stamp him down back into size and try to remember that he really was an adorable baby, energetic and smiley toddler and a love bug until he turned into this 9 year old in front of my face.

We have to get this in control or the tween and teen years are going to be HELL. I'm pretty easy going but I've had to change some things around for him to know my expectations and his rewards.

"Stephen, help me dry the dishes."

"Why? I don't have to do that."

"Oh, you absolutely do. Now."

"I should get paid."

"Really, like I get paid to do the laundry, cook the food, drive you around, clean the house. Son, you should be paying me to take care of you. Now dry those dishes before I explode. Now, Now, NOW."

He pauses, thinks for a second....

"What do the girls have to do if I dry the dishes."

(Me, thinking in my head, seriously. I'm so not explaining this to you. Dry the damn dishes before my head spins around in circles and I burst into a million flaming pieces.)


Just an example of a day in the life of this chaos. My husband and I are working at parenting a 9 year old and twin 6 year olds. Some days I suck, some days I really have it down. Other days I'm looking forward to 6:30 when I can head off to work and just be me. But I love my kids and hope that some day they realize I tried to help them be the best people they could become.

If I just didn't have to tango with them every darn day of the week, it would be a lot easier to look forward to their futures. A lot.