Parenting
The Extraterrestrial in My Home by Mia Thompson
Originally Published: January 29, 2014
Once, there was an extraterrestrial residing in my home. This being didn’t sport enormous, luminous eyes or multiple limbs. It didn’t shed its outer layer at night to reveal a ghostly figure, nor did it consume sustenance through an unusual orifice.
However, it did have mood swings that could rival any alien from a sci-fi movie. In an instant, it could transition from fits of laughter to yelling at the top of its lungs and slamming doors. Its communication style was primarily non-verbal, relying heavily on eye rolls, shoulder shrugs, and the occasional grunt peppered with expressions like “whatever” and “yeah.” This creature also inhaled food as if it would vanish before reaching its lips.
If you have a being like this in your household, you know I’m talking about a teenage boy—specifically one who hasn’t yet reached driving age but is far too old to be seen with Mom while being driven around town. “Just drop me off here, Mom. That’s close enough,” he insists, as if being seen in public with a real-life mother is the ultimate embarrassment.
His hormones surged through him like a roller coaster, transforming him into an almost alien entity, disconnected from his otherwise ordinary family. He could consume an entire pack of cookies, two pot pies, a burrito, and a quart of milk before dinner, only to complain that there was nothing left to eat in the house. He left bowls of Jell-O under his bed, allowing them to develop into questionable fungal specimens that should never be forced upon innocent bystanders.
As the years progressed, I came to accept his role in this extraterrestrial existence. I watched him grow taller than me, transitioning from footie pajamas to jeans. I observed as he shifted from watching the Muppets to indulging in street dancing with rappers. I went from bathing his imaginary companions to reminding him to take a shower before heading off to school.
This was all part of the journey, really. However, amid his transformation into adulthood, I struggled to maintain my own identity. The sight of his clothes strewn about, an empty package of my favorite crackers, and his casual eye rolls would send me into a tailspin. I would gaze into the mirror and see an alien reflection staring back at me. What was happening to me? I would scream in frustration, ranting and raving without making any coherent sense.
Logically, I understood that he had reached the age where my own memories began. I could recall those teenage heartaches—the pimple that appeared on the day of a significant date, the late-night phone calls, the fluttering heart when the boy I liked walked by without a glance. I had been there once, but remembering this was not enough to soothe my distress.
A simple “Thank you, Mom,” a kiss on the cheek, or an “I love you” would have been appreciated. And surprisingly, those moments did occur. In the least expected times, he would plant a soft kiss on my cheek. But within moments, he’d return to communicating with his imaginary mothership.
Sometimes, I found myself wishing for his departure. I’d plead for him to grow up quickly and return—taller, wiser, and with children of his own.
Eventually, that wish came true. He matured. I entered his now-empty room and listened to the echoes he left behind: the beeping of video games, whispers during late-night chats, and the heavy bass reverberating through the doorway. Standing there, amidst the remnants of what was once his world, I realized how swiftly time had passed.
He had not only traversed through my memories but had also moved on to his own. Some of those experiences mirrored my own, while others were entirely new to me. He is now facing his own challenges, as another extraterrestrial inhabits his space, consuming his food and wandering about as if no one understands his life.
Yet, there is a comforting thought: that alien loves that child as much as I do.
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Summary:
This piece humorously explores the challenges and transformations experienced while raising a teenage boy, likening them to an alien presence in the household. The narrative captures the emotional roller coaster of parenting during adolescence, highlighting moments of frustration, nostalgia, and ultimately, love.