I pity her future husband.

Everyone in my family seems on edge. I don’t know if it’s just that time of year-end of summer vacation-or all the changes that are happening.

Chris started a new job (Yay!) with long hours (Boo!).

Taylor started high school today. (Yay! Sob!)

Reagan has her first “boyfriend.” (Okay, they talk on the phone and don’t actually do anything together, but still, it’s a first for her.)

Lots of new stuff going on. But still… I’m beginning to worry…

Maybe they’re just dicks?

Every one of them is driving me CRAZY. Okay, I take that back, Chris is too busy to drive me crazy, (*but “I taste like white chocolate!”); however, the kids, the kids have driven me up one wall and down the other.

Yesterday Taylor said “I hate Reagan. When I’m an adult I’m never going to see her.”

Wow, talk about heart-breaking.

And, again, Reagan didn’t do her chores. I’m frankly really sick of this-almost to the point of wanting to give up. We spend more time arguing about cleaning her room or loading the dishwasher than it would take to just do the work.

I’m frazzled. I’m like the mom in the grocery store with a toddler that keeps trying to stand in the cart seat over and over again. You see the kid trying to stand, see the mom’s gritted teeth, the lips barely moving to say “Sit. Down. Now.”

Thinking “Why is she so upset? What’s the big deal?” Not realizing that the battle has been going on since the produce section.

The constant repetition of the same misbehavior, saying the same thing, first light-heartedly, “Don’t forget to clean your room today.” Then sterner, “Why isn’t your room clean?” Followed by “Clean. Room. NOW! ” With a final, “Holy Shit! How many times do I have to say ‘clean your damn room?'”

It’s wearing me down. We’ve tried punishments; we’ve tried rewards. Nothing seems to work. I’m beginning to ponder some sort of room cleaning boot camp experience. They’ll smuggle her out in the night… take her to a cabin, force her to hang up laundry and to make her bed. Hell on Earth.

Back to reality, last night we had a serious family discussion about chores and our expectations.

“You MUST do your chores before you use the computer, the phone, play video games or watch T.V. Do you understand?”

Taylor: “Yes.”

Reagan: “Yes, I understand, but that doesn’t mean that I agree.”

That one always has to have the last word…

*Shout out to my fellow “Weeds” watching peeps!


7 Responses to “I pity her future husband.”

  1. katearch1978 Says:

    Taste like white chocolate…LOL!

    Maybe you just need to just negotiate with Reagan. Her room can be a pig sty, but her door must be shut and any laundry that doesn’t get done as a result is not your problem. But the rest of the family uses the rest of the house outside of her room, so she has to pitch in, just like every one else.

    That way she has her own space and if she wants to live in crazy disarray, that’s her area to do so. But the rest of the house may not look that way or mommy gets to beat them. I think it sounds fair! 🙂

  2. Jennifer Says:

    The only flaw with that plan is the towels. She’s a “wet towel on the floor” hoarder… and they end up musty and with no towels in my linen closet!

  3. Ms. PH Says:

    I’m the mother with the toddler in the grocery store saying, SIT. DOWN. NOW. I totally identify with that!

    Anyway – I myself was a pretty surly teenager and oppositional with my parents (I was an angel with others, though, just to piss the ‘rents off). One time when I had not cleaned my room and had musty clothes and wet towels all over the floor, they said they would remove all things from the floor of my room if I didn’t clean it in 24 hours.

    I attempted to call their bluff . . . and ignored them. A huge miscalculation on my part. While I was staying overnight at a friend’s house that weekend, my parents took everything off the floor in my room and closet, put it in boxes, and locked it in the shed. (I think my mother confiscated the wet towels and washed them.) Of course, my most prized possessions had been on the floor (my favorite jeans, my magazines, etc.) I then had to earn back my things by performing chores around the house – 5 items of clothing for mowing the lawn, etc. I was considerably neater after that.

    However, to this day, I refuse to make my bed. I think it’s stupid – I’m just gonna mess it up again in a few hours anyway!

  4. Maria Says:

    My parents cleaned my room for me once too. It just led to a lot of resentment. BUT, if there was follow up, and the awarding of items back maybe it would work better? Can you assign Reagan one towel and one washcloth to use for a week at a time until she can handle more? It would possibly require a lock on the linen closet and the rest of the family would have to go along with it. Unless there is absolute consistency though, you have an uphill battle ahead of you. Teenage hormones are a bitch, yo.

    BTW, What exactly would one have to do in order to taste like white chocolate? I have some warm vanilla sugar lotion, but I am pretty sure it isn’t tasty.

  5. HollowSquirrel Says:

    ooooooh serenity now (for you).

  6. Rixblix Says:

    PH’s idea is spot on. She’s testing every boundary and you’ll have to call her bluff. Don’t worry about being mean….it really will work. Try to remember not to take it personally, you are safe so she feels she can ‘vent’ in her own way. But I was going to suggest exactly what Ms. PH did. One more instruction to clean it or else and then follow through. I don’t know that I’d even tell her what the consequence of not cleaning will be…just give her an “or else” and if she asks “or else what?” tell her you don’t know yet. Then surprise her with a clean sweep!

  7. Jennifer Says:

    PH and Rix,
    We’ve actually done that before and had many trash bags of stuff. And she DIDN’T care! WTF? My child is crazy… or maybe she’s spoiled and just had too much damn stuff? IDK. Anyway, we did throw the stuff away and she didn’t miss any of it. Craziness. At the same time we took off her bedroom door, and that she hated. No way to hide the mess… and no privacy. She had to change clothes in her closet! We got several weeks of good behavior out of it though!
    I’m breathing deeply, doing yoga by my festivus tree! No, actually, I hate yoga. But I did sign up for an exercise class, trying to find a vent for my frustration that is healthier than eating Dove ice cream.

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