There was once an extraterrestrial residing in my home. This being didn’t possess oversized, luminous eyes or multiple appendages. He didn’t shed his skin at night to reveal a transparent physique, nor did he consume sustenance through a nasal opening.
However, this creature had an unpredictable temperament. In mere moments, he could transition from fits of laughter to intense shouting and door-slamming. His communication was largely non-verbal, filled with eye rolls, shoulder shrugs, and an occasional grunt, often accompanied by phrases like “whatever” and “yeah.” He devoured food as if it might vanish before reaching his mouth.
If you have one of these beings in your household, you know I’m describing a teenage boy—specifically, one who isn’t quite old enough to drive but is certainly too old to be seen with his mother as she navigates the streets.
“Mom, drop me off here. This is good.” Heaven forbid he be spotted in the same vehicle as a real-life mother.
His teenage hormones surged like a wild roller coaster, transforming him into a being that seemed disconnected from the rest of our otherwise normal family. He could consume an entire package of cookies, two pot pies, a burrito, and wash it down with a quart of milk—all before dinner—then complain that there was nothing to eat in the house. He left bowls of Jell-O to mature under his bed, developing into an array of specimens no one should ever have to breathe in.
In his alien realm, he was the undisputed center, utterly misunderstood by everyone around him. As time passed, I gradually accepted his role in this alien existence. I witnessed him grow taller than me, transitioning from footie pajamas to jeans. I listened as he moved from enjoying the Muppets to vibing with street rappers.
I went from bathing his imaginary friends to reminding him to shower before school. And while it was all part of the journey, I struggled to maintain my own identity during his metamorphosis into manhood. The sight of his clothes strewn about, an empty package of my favorite crackers, and his innocent shoulder shrugs would send me into a frenzy. I would glance in the mirror and feel like an alien myself.
What was happening to me? I would scream and rant, often without making much sense.
Logically, I understood that he had reached the age where my own memories began. I could recall those heartaches—the embarrassment of a pimple before a big date, the sleepless nights filled with phone calls, and the fluttering heart as my crush walked by without a glance. I had once been there too. But understanding didn’t make it easier. A simple “Thank you, Mom,” a kiss on the cheek, or an “I love you” would have been nice.
And it did happen. When I least expected it, he would kiss my cheek softly. Of course, the next moment, he’d be back to interacting with his imaginary spaceship. At times, I even wished for the aliens to take him away, to let him grow up and return taller, wiser, and with kids of his own.
Eventually, that day arrived. I stood in his empty room, listening to the echoes of his presence—the beeping of video games, the whispered conversations late at night, the pulsating bass echoing from the doorway.
In that moment, I realized how swiftly it all transpired. He had traversed through my memories and forged ahead into new ones, some I had experienced and others I had not.
Now, he’s facing his own alien challenges, as a new extraterrestrial has taken residence in his life, consuming his food and navigating a world that seems incomprehensible. But you know what? My alien loves that child just as deeply as I do.
In this journey of parenting, it’s essential to recognize the shifts and understand that love remains constant, even amidst the chaos. For more insights on parenting and family life, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination CCRM IVF Blog and learn more about parental leave for self-employed individuals here.
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In summary, the transition from parenting a child to navigating the teenage years can feel like an alien experience. However, through love and understanding, we can embrace these changes while cherishing the memories we’ve created.