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Are You Serious?

October 18th, 2016

Dear Todd,

Getting out of the house this morning was a little less than fun. Just a smidgen away from a totally good time. And I'm pretty sure I'm on the verge of getting disbarred from parenting.

NEWS FLASH: Our eldest is transforming.

It's not unlike watching the sprouting of ear hair on Teen Wolf. He's starting to become something a little less responsible. A little less cuddly. A little less kind. And yet, he's still a good kid.

It started with coming down to breakfast with only 10 minutes to get to the car. And peaked into a rollicking good time, when he ran upstairs to grab his camera for Photography 102 and realized that it was not in its case.

He descended the stairs in total frustration declaring the injustice.

"Everything BUT my camera is in my case."

"Well, when did you last use your camera?"

"A long time ago. And I put it back in the case."

"Nobody went into your room and took your camera out of its case."

"Well it's not there."

"So when did you use it last?"

"I don't know!"

And then he proceeded to run the stairs from the basement to the second floor in a frantic search covering all possible regions of the home.  I looked at the clock. We were way beyond late.  I decided to use the bathroom while he freaked out.

When I opened the bathroom door I was met with, "I got it. Rena found it. Let's go."

As I was ushered out the front door, I said, "Thank you, Rena!" And then, once in the car, asked him where it was.

He explained that it was underneath a wooden "mail-holder" on the desk in the office.  And then added (this is the part that floored me) "Had SHE woken up earlier, I wouldn't have been late."

I had so many thoughts fighting for their way out of my mouth...most of them had some sort of profanity mixed with requests for his words to stop. But all I could say in my PG moment was, "What?!"

Fortunately, he elaborated, "If she had gotten up earlier then she could've told me where my camera was and then I wouldn't have been late."

I stopped at the stop sign and turned to face him.

"Are you serious or messing with me?"

"Both," he replied as a smile crept across his face for the first time all morning.

"OH MY GAWD!"

I couldn't contain it any longer---yet was sensitive to wanting to preserve the smile.

"Let's go over some other solutions to this situation...PUH-LEASE. You are telling me that had your sister gotten up earlier--which she didn't need to for herself...her school starts an hour after yours---but had SHE gotten up earlier than YOU---who woke up with 10 minutes to do everything---would not have been late.  What if...Let's just imagine...that YOU got all your shit --yes I said 'shit' you're almost 13 and it felt appropriate--together the night before. Like you are supposed to. And let's imagine that your sister is still awake AND remembers where you left your camera. That might have helped, huh?  And that might also call for a 'THANK YOU SISTER WHO SAVED MY ASS.' Yes, I dropped 'ass' too. I'm grouchy."

He looked down at his shoes and then back out the car window.

"Or," I continued on my morning soapbox, "you could've just put your camera away after you used it and then it would've been in its case."

"Yea," he muttered.

"Just a thought," I added, apparently unable to not have the last word at the age of 42.

"And one last thing I feel the need to point out," I continued. This was his morning test. If he passed this, I felt that all was not lost. "When I'm late taking you to school..."

"You are late taking them (siblings) to school."

"YES!" I said almost too excited. I was thrilled that he got how his actions affect others.
"And should they have to be late today? Is that fair?"

"No," he sighed.

"Okay, well now that we have that all covered. Don't let this ruin your entire day."

"I just wish I had something I could write for being late."

"You mean other than, 'I was not prepared this morning and I blame my sister for everything.'?"

"Yes."

"If I give you a reason to be late today---it's your ONE PASS---you have to promise to smile the rest of the car ride. And ideally, all day in school. ALSO, you will never get this "pass" again, so hopefully you will be prepared and remember this feeling."

These were all the things I had to say out loud to make me feel like I wasn't doing one of the cardinal sins of parenting--the BAILOUT---but I was. But only this once. I did it for homework--ONCE. For a forgotten lunch---ONCE. This would be his ONCE.

I continued, "You can say you were at the dentist." I waited for the car to be struck by lighting, or the tire to blow. Something that confirmed that I was making the wrong choice.

"But, you gotta be sweet the rest of the week cuz I'm failing Parenting 101 right now."

"OK. Thank you!" He smiled, and climbed out of the car.

"It's your ONE PASS!" I yelled as he started to walk towards the school. I was trying to really make this moment resonate, as I was sure another one was in our near future and I would have to reflect and say, "Remember, you already used your ONCE."  Which would somehow make me feel better about myself. Which is really what parenting is all about anyway. Otherwise, we would get paid.


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