Yes readers, you’re right, I am too young to be the parent of a teenager. Well, really, I’m not too young but I am not the parent of a teenager. A passer by my home last night may have thought differently. The conversation went like this:
Jason: “Ella, if you’re going to watch a show, you need to sit, not jump on the couch.”
Ella (still jumping and unresponsive)
Jason: “Ella, you’re spilling your snack. Sit down.”
Ella (sits on the coffee table, spilling snacks as she goes) “Ok daddy.”
Jason: “Ella, you know we don’t sit there. Get down.”
Ella (ignoring him, eating snacks and trying to look around him at her show)
Jason: “Ok Ella, no show. You need to go to your room and think about how you didn’t listen to Daddy.”
Ella runs to her room and slams the door.
I continue making dinner.
Ella comes out a few minutes later.
Ella: “Mama, can we talk?” (Proud mama/therapist moment; I’m always asking her to talk about her feelings.)
Me: “Sure, sweetie. Do you want to talk about how you didn’t listen to Daddy?”
Ella: “Um, no. I wanna talk about Daddy is crazy.”
Me: (Trying not to laugh) “Well, that’s not true . . .”
Ella: (interrupting me) “Ok, mama, I have my bag and I’m going to go find another family.”
She sets her princess treasure chest on the counter and starts showing me what she packed.
Ella: “Mama, I have my princess nightgown and my princesses and my lip bop (chapstick in Ella speak). I am going to leave and find a new family.”
Jason: “Ella, Mommy & Daddy would be really sad if you left.”
Ella: “Ok, David can come and Mama can come.”
Me: “Ella, Daddy would miss us. “
Ella: “Ok, Daddy can come too.”
Me: “Well, if we’re all going than maybe we should just stay here with our family.”
Ahh, the fickle ways of a teenager, I mean, a toddler. Or really, is there much difference between the two?
I truly thought I had a few years before she packed a bag and threatened to leave. How in the world did my mother ever take me seriously those few times I tried the same thing?