Three teenage boys. Who don't particularly like me.
I can't say I blame them. It's not easy to live with someone who used to listen well, who used to look out for academic, spiritual and social needs. Now I'm rushing these young men out the door or shuttling from this practice to that meeting. And I find myself telling them to pick up, sweep up, or clean up. I don't have time to listen closely, because I just need things done. So, I tell them more. Louder. I resort the weak or non-parenting strategy of arguing. Some years ago I realized that too doing too much contributes to an ill temper. So, I cut out the doing and began being present for my children. Now as a working person, the "being present" has ended, and the ill temper returns. The teen years are not the best time for a mom to become short. Nevertheless, I'm working diligently with white knuckles to stay positive at best or at least neutral. If you're the praying kind, I'll take 'em.
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