Living in a household filled with teenagers is a unique challenge. (Your positive vibes and thoughts are gratefully welcomed.) These young adults often communicate with their parents through eye rolls, dismissive shrugs, and the all-too-frequent “Oh my God!” muttered under their breath. It can feel like they’re perpetually exasperated with us.
I understand that having a middle-aged, minivan-driving mom like me must be a source of immense frustration. They must suffer through my awkward attempts at texting, navigating social media, or even figuring out how to download pictures from the iPad. I get their internal struggle when my fashion choices aren’t “on point,” and how they “literally can’t even” when I misinterpret their slang.
Yet, while they grapple with the unbearable burden of having an “uncool” mother, I would like to remind them to be a little more patient with me. After all, I grew up during a time when the most advanced video games involved dodging dysentery, and I wrote all my college papers without the aid of Google. They owe me a modicum of respect and understanding, beyond mere eye rolls.
Here are 19 reasons they should be grateful for me—one for each year I’ve been their mother:
- I carried each of them for nine long months and endured the pain of childbirth without ever giving up on them, despite the discomfort.
- During those sleepless nights when they wouldn’t settle, I rocked them to sleep, yearning for just five minutes alone to take a shower or even brush my hair.
- Those late-night nursing marathons were exhausting, yet I stayed committed to their needs.
- Even when they protested and threw food on the floor, I always made sure they were fed, never giving up on my duty.
- I held their hands as they took their first steps, even when walking seemed like a trivial task.
- I navigated the complexities of potty training, one of life’s basic skills that they somehow struggled with.
- I read “Goodnight Moon” countless times, pouring enthusiasm into each reading, even when I felt like I just couldn’t anymore.
- I taught them how to communicate, patiently answering their endless “What’s that?” questions.
- I decoded their toddler babble until they could articulate words like “potty” and “cookie.”
- I let them have the last cookie, prioritizing their happiness over my cravings.
- I shared my drinks, even knowing they’d leave behind cookie crumbs.
- During their most dramatic public tantrums, I managed to keep my cool, even when I understood why some animals might eat their young.
- I sat through endless episodes of Caillou and Teletubbies, which I’m convinced belong in some sort of purgatory.
- I tolerated their fashion choices, from mismatched clothing to wearing snow boots in summer, allowing them to express themselves.
- I’ve endured the pain of stepping on Legos in the dark, a true testament to my dedication as a parent.
- I’ve been their loudest cheerleader at countless sporting events, even when they forgot which goal was theirs.
- I’ve helped them through math homework, complete with all the tears that accompany it.
- I still find myself reminding them to take out the trash and close the bathroom door, even though they know what to do.
- I can still locate their belongings faster than they can, be it clean socks or karate uniforms.
After all of this, I’ve certainly earned a little patience and appreciation from my teenagers. Perhaps I should share this list with them—if I can remember how to send it, of course.
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In summary, being a parent is a challenging but rewarding journey filled with sacrifices, patience, and love. My teenagers may not always see it, but the foundation of our relationship is built on mutual respect and understanding.