MAD Magazine and Trying to Connect
My awesomely wonderful son Skip turned 13 recently.
One of the reasons I haven't been blogging as much is because I truly feel that as my kids get older, their life is their life. Trust me- puberty is HILARIOUS- however, I think it's also private.
With that said, however, I have to say that as most parents, I thought once those teen years hit, MY child would be different.
You can stop laughing now.
I get one hug a week that was negotiated. I threatened to yell "I LOVE YOU, SCHMOOPIE" out the window when I dropped him off at school. In exchange for NOT doing this, I get a hug. A week. One.
From the little boy who once said how he would always love me and hold my hand.
HA.
I sorta kinda became dumb overnight. But not really. He even fessed up to this "It's frustrating- you're actually smart and funny. You're making it difficult to not like you."
Yes. I. Am.
He even gave me credit about my negotiations on the hug. And holds me to the one a week.
I've apparently become magnetic- in that I repel him if I get too close.
I call it Parental Polarity.
My husband seems to be unscathed from this. He also works with teenagers so he thinks my frustration is hilarious.
My son and I used to talk about EVERYTHING. We never had a typical mother-son relationship. It was more of a peer to peer situation. He's pretty level headed so after about 2, I started asking his opinion on things. I had never been a mom before so it only seemed logical that we approach it as a team project. He would give me honest feedback and vice versa.
It's worked.
And it still is.
He's a good student. He's generally polite.
I'm not worried.
And our "together" time comes in bursts that is often, unfortunately, right before I have to pee. So the deep thoughts are sometimes interrupted by my fear of my bladder bursting.
I also force him to go to breakfast with me one day on the weekend. He used to love it. Now I say things like "I birthed your giant head. We're getting pancakes."
As much as he complains, he likes it to some extent.
But I feel like I am perpetually looking for that connection.
My daughter's Girl Scout Troop sold magazines this fall. So I ordered some and I got him a subscription to MAD Magazine.
I LOVED MAD Magazine as a kid. LOVED it. My sarcasm grew from its pages.
The first issue arrived and I made the mistake of telling him how much I loved it.
So it sat on the counter for a few days.
Because how cool could it possibly be if Mom liked it?
Well tonight, he was in his room and was a little late to dinner. My husband asked if he was playing XBox.
Nope. He was reading MAD.
Because apparently it is pretty hilarious and he didn't hear us call that it was dinner time.
And suddenly, I got a few points for being cool.
Very few. But I'll take them.
Tomorrow when I'm helping with the jazz band he will ignore me and avoid eye contact even though "The other kids really like you... they think you're cool... they don't know you...."
But I'll have the very brief moment where I know that I was cool again in his eyes.
And maybe someday when I'm old, he'll even hold my hand again.
(This blog was approved by Skip)
One of the reasons I haven't been blogging as much is because I truly feel that as my kids get older, their life is their life. Trust me- puberty is HILARIOUS- however, I think it's also private.
With that said, however, I have to say that as most parents, I thought once those teen years hit, MY child would be different.
You can stop laughing now.
I get one hug a week that was negotiated. I threatened to yell "I LOVE YOU, SCHMOOPIE" out the window when I dropped him off at school. In exchange for NOT doing this, I get a hug. A week. One.
From the little boy who once said how he would always love me and hold my hand.
HA.
I sorta kinda became dumb overnight. But not really. He even fessed up to this "It's frustrating- you're actually smart and funny. You're making it difficult to not like you."
Yes. I. Am.
He even gave me credit about my negotiations on the hug. And holds me to the one a week.
I've apparently become magnetic- in that I repel him if I get too close.
I call it Parental Polarity.
My husband seems to be unscathed from this. He also works with teenagers so he thinks my frustration is hilarious.
My son and I used to talk about EVERYTHING. We never had a typical mother-son relationship. It was more of a peer to peer situation. He's pretty level headed so after about 2, I started asking his opinion on things. I had never been a mom before so it only seemed logical that we approach it as a team project. He would give me honest feedback and vice versa.
It's worked.
And it still is.
He's a good student. He's generally polite.
I'm not worried.
And our "together" time comes in bursts that is often, unfortunately, right before I have to pee. So the deep thoughts are sometimes interrupted by my fear of my bladder bursting.
I also force him to go to breakfast with me one day on the weekend. He used to love it. Now I say things like "I birthed your giant head. We're getting pancakes."
As much as he complains, he likes it to some extent.
But I feel like I am perpetually looking for that connection.
My daughter's Girl Scout Troop sold magazines this fall. So I ordered some and I got him a subscription to MAD Magazine.
I LOVED MAD Magazine as a kid. LOVED it. My sarcasm grew from its pages.
The first issue arrived and I made the mistake of telling him how much I loved it.
So it sat on the counter for a few days.
Because how cool could it possibly be if Mom liked it?
Well tonight, he was in his room and was a little late to dinner. My husband asked if he was playing XBox.
Nope. He was reading MAD.
Because apparently it is pretty hilarious and he didn't hear us call that it was dinner time.
And suddenly, I got a few points for being cool.
Very few. But I'll take them.
Tomorrow when I'm helping with the jazz band he will ignore me and avoid eye contact even though "The other kids really like you... they think you're cool... they don't know you...."
But I'll have the very brief moment where I know that I was cool again in his eyes.
And maybe someday when I'm old, he'll even hold my hand again.
(This blog was approved by Skip)
Comments
Great blog!