After several days of fairly peaceful existence, today has been a real crapfest.
Alesia has gotten on my nerves really bad today. She is so touchy, so much of the time, that it’s exhausting to me to just be around her. Her date last night didn’t happen because the boy was grounded for some reason. First he canceled, then he said we can go, then he canceled, then he said no we can go. He kept this up for about two hours. Finally, it was off for good. He texted or messaged her and asked if he could see her some other time this weekend and she said she was busy all weekend.
Thanks a lot, kid, for making her even more grouchy than usual. Thanks a whole lot.
Today we have been bickering all.day.long. She wanted to go to Best Buy and replace the phone she has, which she broke. I let her drive to Best Buy, and she bought a ridiculously expensive phone, with her money, and then didn’t buy minutes for it.
I told her I’d buy her some minutes if she’d help me clean out the garage and the linen closet in the next few days. She grudgingly said she could do that.
Michael and I have had conflicts all day about his hair, and the fact that none of his friends are available to play tennis, and the fact he doesn’t want to clean his room or do his laundry.
Even Mother and I had a tiff at lunch, which rarely happens.
I had just told her in the car that I don’t see how we will be able to afford a vacation this year, with me not working.
We were on our way to lunch at Mother’s favorite Mexican place, Eduardo’s. We had a double table. Alesia sat as far away from the rest of us as possible, then stared at the TV throughout the meal. If I said anything to her, she snapped at me.
I finally sat at lunch and just said nothing. Michael asked me why I kept staring into space and acting weird, and I said because I am so tired of fighting. Then I had the thought that if I were a better mother I could accomplish everything without fighting. Clearly I am screwing up the whole deal.
Alesia is 18 physically and about 14-15 mentally and emotionally. At the rate she is going, it will be 3-5 more years before we can talk without her getting mad at me every ten seconds. That’s a depressing thought.
She won’t accept my authority. Every time I try to tell her anything, large or small, she tells me I am wrong. She thinks she knows everything. I know all kids go through this, but it just wears me out.
She also spends a lot of time in her room with the door closed. Another typical teenaged thing, but it irritates me.
The kids were watching the Olympics while we ate our late lunch. (We ate very late. I had made a big breakfast, French toast.) So Alesia said at lunch, she wanted to go skiing. Michael keeps telling me he wants to go snowboarding. I told them any winter sports will be very expensive, as there are no ski resorts anywhere near here, and even if there were, I can’t afford that sort of equipment and lessons. I don’t think they realize that constantly telling me they want to do these things causes me to be depressed, because I simply have no money to do all the things I would like to do with them.
OTOH, should I feel guilty about it? When I was a kid we never went to Disneyworld. We didn’t get new cars. We didn’t go on expensive vacations. Getting my dad to even agree to buy us decent clothes was a major fight for Mother. He was a banker and very tight with a dollar, and there was no point in trying to wheedle anything out of him. I didn’t feel particularly deprived, mind you. I didn’t constantly tell him I wanted to do things I knew he couldn’t afford, though, either.
I remember one time, however, when I was in high school, and I wanted to go on a trip to France, a school sponsored trip with my French teacher which sounded fabulous. I was 16. I begged Dad to give me the money, or let me get a job and earn the money. He finally sat down and showed me, with a pen and paper, that I couldn’t earn enough money to go on the trip, and he simply didn’t have the money to give me. I remember realizing that I had put him in a very awkward position, of having to say he simply couldn’t provide something that I was so set on getting to do. I could see it upset him, and I regretted it. I think that was when I had my first glimpse of how hard it is to be an adult and try to provide for a family.
Today, I am feeling very much like a single mom. I need a break.
