Happy Birthday, But I Retain My Right To Bitch
April 3, 2011 § 3 Comments
My youngest daughter turns 20 today.
But enough about her; let’s talk about me. This birthday means that I can’t whine about parenting teenagers anymore! I’ve been moaning about being the parent of teenage girls for over 10 years. I blame ALL my problems on my hormone-crazed brood!
Headache? It’s the stress of all the nagging, boyfriends, messy rooms, driving practice, and college applications.
Fatigue? It’s all the waiting up at night for them to come home safely, and then dragging their butts out of bed to get to school in the morning!
Broke? Do you have any idea how much it costs to clothe, feed, insure, and educate a teen?
If I can’t bitch about having teens any more, does that mean I have to be…NICE? And waste all those years of learning how to be exasperated? NEVER! Take away my kids, but don’t tell me I can’t blame my problems on them anymore!
Parents have whining rights from the get-go. When you’re pregnant, oh the nausea and the backaches and the stretch marks and all the peeing. Then the childbirth horror stories we get to drag out whenever the kids are acting up: “I suffered through 36 hours of labor bringing you in to this world; I don’t want to hear any complaints about having to (fill in the blank, as nothing can ever compare) for a whole hour”!
When the kids are little we get to gripe about the diaper messes, the potty training, the terrible twos. Later we can complain about all the schlepping to and from activities, the messy rooms, the homework supervision, the birthday parties, and the cost of all the lessons.
During the teenage years we get to do the prime-time kvetching what with all the rolling of the eyes, the door slamming, cussing, back-talking, and drinking. And then there’s all the stuff the kids are doing!
It’s bad enough that daughter #1 has redeemed her hell-bent adolescence years by graduating from college–with honors–(the wench), but now she has the audacity to be applying for LAW SCHOOL! She’s blown all the steam out of my grousing. What did I ever do to deserve this, I ask?
So, my lovely daughter #2, as you leave behind your teenage years and become a mature adult, please don’t expect me to do the same. The hardest parenting years might be behind me, but I’m just getting the whining down to an art form.
Happy Birthday, Love!