Parental Parody

I’m pretty sure that I’ve lost “it” – my parenting mojo.
The Feral Two-some have out-grown me.
They no longer buy into all of my bullshit and actually realize that I am not the be all and end all of the world.
My beloved Levi has worked out how to push my buttons. Profusely.
He’ll still profess undying love and still wish out loud that I was younger / he was older but now it’s not so we can get married. It’s so he can move out or so that he was never born.
In fact, if I think about it, he usually only whispers it to me nowadays.
Or yells and growls with scowls and sarcasm.
And usually only after I’ve asked him to do something or tried to watch T.V…on my T.V.
Or he’s been busted watching YouTube when he’s been grounded.
Gone are the days of blowing me kisses across the playground.
My last kiss is still lingering in the breeze, unrequited.
Instead, I got some beat-boxing in return.
We are in the rough patch with the hormonal, pre-tween attitude.
 
Yes, really.
As for Miss Delylah, she is the least of my worries….Right now.
She has worked out that she can pretend she can’t hear me  –  in a way more mature way than my own “lalalala I can’t hear youuuu” fingers in ears version that I have, until now, relied on when they ask awkward questions.
I can rant and rave, beg and plead, and her single excuse is “wait…what? Oh sorry Mom, I didn’t hear you…” – and I have NO WAY OF PROVING OTHERWISE….
Despite being a people-pleaser – especially an adult-pleaser – she has worked out that there’s more kudos in saving her adult-pleasing for teachers.
She’s also worked out that I’m entirely embarrassing, as far as parents go.
I was all professional at the water park – and there was my Delylah, winning the hula hoop competition.
I completely lost my professional persona shit standing in the back, screaming her name….
 
….and she very obviously stared at me with a look of horror.
So I regained my professional mom persona and pretended I did not see her kicking ass with a hula hoop around her waist, until she had to report to me for her official finishing position and I ripped her off the ground and squeezed the living crap out of her little body.
She loved it, and she hugged me back – but only after checking that nobody else was watching…
And Thank the Vodka Gods for Facebook Memories!
For the first time ever, I’ve found myself genuinely reminiscing over Facebook “You posted this XXX years ago….” pics of the kids.
As opposed to continuing down to the latest cocktail / DIY / food / celeb post.
All that professing of unconditional love over the years has come back to bite me in the ass.
They know they’ve got me.  That they’ve got the upper hand.
This is unfamiliar territory.
I’m used to being the unquestioned center of their everything.
Clearly, I’m going to have to work out what their kryptonite is and regain the prized power position / unconditional love and respect.
FYI….it was their random refusal of doing all the things we used to do together – board games, zoo trips and not eating their favorite tacos – that actually prompted this post.
It sent me into a tail spin of reflection, on listening to their negotiations over dinner / bed times / upcoming school year.
They weren’t remotely interested in pleasing me, listening to my firm insistence that they loved the zoo and monopoly and it would be fun and awesome. And Taco are delicious.
But, whatever, the point is – they are clearly turning into manipulative little ass-holes (apple, tree, obviously).
And I’ve lost the “it” factor….I don’t have IT anymore….
PS – FOUND ANOTHER PATCH OF CHIN HAIRS.  Insult to injury….
Happy Wednesday My Friends
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