Tag Archives: motherhood

The Guarded Mom

The guarded mom….

Normally I write these and tell you about the song I am listening to and what I am drinking. No music but milk tea. Lots of milk tea. It’s my new favorite thing.

There are quotes all over Pinterest about guarded women. I would take it a step further and say I’m a guarded Mom.

I realized this a long time ago but this weekend it came front and center. My daughter was trying to get in touch with her Dad to tell him about her grades. Her texts kept bouncing back. I found this out when I heard her crying in her room. I got my phone and put him on speaker. When I started to explain to him what happened he started to get defensive as he does. My daughter gave me a look. I was able to diffuse the situation and she was able to tell her Dad about her grades.

I want to tell you I haven’t spent the last eleven years diffusing everything but if you read what I write. You know that’s not true. And it’s exhausting. I have to think about everything I say. Everything I post. Even writing these blogs I worry sometimes.

My constant diffusing has meant I also keep certain parts of me to myself. I have only taken one vacation by myself. My daughter has only met one person that I have dated.  Up until I started writing and doing radio again all my social media was private and most of it, still is.

I worry when I do go out somehow my ex husband will turn it around on me.  That worry has made me say no. That worry has made me put things in place so my daughter will always have someone when it can’t be me. That worry has made me appear anti social. To some like I don’t care. That I’m closed off.

The thing is I care with my whole heart. I made a promise to my daughter the first time her Dad broke her heart I would be as she calls me- her knightress.

Sometimes a Knight has to guard her heart, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have one. She’s just keeping it safe for battle.

Being a Mom is the best thing, the hardest thing and my favorite thing.

Be safe.

Love you Mommas

G’s Knightress

Caprise

I Am Lost In Life

I am lost in life….

Have you ever been in your car driving and suddenly look up and realize that you have no idea where you are?  Your GPS is still plugging along telling you where to go but at the same time you’re not quite sure it knows where it’s going, and you know that you sure the hell don’t.

Last year some girlfriends and our daughters went to Cancun, Mexico for a girl’s trip.  I was elected to drive to the airport because I had the biggest vehicle (and the most luggage). Our trip to the airport was uneventful. Seems like I had been there hundreds of times. But when we got home, I set my GPS for home and between its directions and me we went on one of the wildest rides of our lives.  I kept following the blue road but every time I did, we were rerouted and a 25-minute trip turned into 1 ½ hours.  (I’ll bet I’m never asked to drive again!  Ha-ha!)

Well I’m lost again.  This time in life. You see, I have been a stay at home mom for over 20 years.  I have 3 kids, the youngest being 17 and a senior in high school next year.  Ever since my firstborn was born, I have devoted myself to being a mother.  Everything I did revolved around kids and their schedules and juggling my husband’s work and travel schedule, and homeschooling, and on and on.  But the one person I never did focus on, or revolve around, was me.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved every minute of being a stay at home mom.  I think in part because before kids I was a full out career woman.  I became a CPA, worked for one of the largest corporations in America, jetted here and there for work.  Sometimes I would get home at 10:00 at night.  I would just go to sleep and get up and do the whole thing over again.  And I loved it.  I felt so smart and important with my briefcase, laptop, wearing my trendy suits bopping through airport after airport.  I was important! I was somebody!

Then one day I wasn’t feeling quite well.  Actually, I hadn’t in quite a few days.  I had come home from work at a decent hour and made one of our favorite meals – Chicken Casserole!  I will never forget when the timer went off and I opened the oven to pull our beloved meal out.  The smell overwhelmed me! And for the first time, it didn’t smell good!  I ran from the kitchen hoping my husband would grab the food, which he did, and well….it wasn’t pretty. What in the world was wrong with me?  I started thinking.  My “monthly visitor” had never visited me on a regular basis if you get my drift.  But how long had it actually been this time. I looked at the calendar and it had been 8 weeks!  WHAT!!!  That has happened before but this time I just felt like something was different.  And I was right.  After a quick trip to Rite Aid I found out the next morning that the biggest blessing I would ever experience was about to visit me in about 7 months.

I am unashamed to admit that at that moment I didn’t feel as though a blessing was coming.  I felt as though it was something, or someone, who was going to disrupt and tear down the beautiful life that I had built for myself.  I couldn’t have been more wrong.  Once I laid eyes on that beautiful face and heard that faint little cry, I found a love inside me that I never knew existed.  And that set the stage for the next 20+ years.

I was so happy raising my kids!  Everything from their painful births to the birthday parties and playdates and summer days at the pool and sweltering nights at the ballpark.  I was happy!  I loved my kids!  I loved being their “go-to” person.  I loved being a mom! And I think for the first time in my life, I loved me.

Well, just like that I wake up one day to a house full of adults.  My children were no longer playing with toys or going on playdates or needed a ride.  They could drive themselves wherever they needed to go. And they did. They could cook better than I could.  And they did.  They could do their own laundry. And they did. They were independent and responsible.  They didn’t need me.

Wait!  What???!!! I always bought matching outfits for them for every holiday and had professional portraits made and proudly hung them throughout my house.  My life had been cooking and cleaning and shopping and running these three beautiful heart-stealers from place to place.  Now, all of a sudden, it was like……. well it was like crickets.  No one needed me. And I was lost.  And I still am.

I’m here in my house with a bunch of adults who all think they know more than anyone else including me and I realize that I have no purpose. At least I feel that way. My purpose went from handling the finances for a Fortune 500 Company, to raising three beautiful people to be responsible adults someday. And that day was suddenly here.  They are beautiful people and I couldn’t be prouder of them!

I know that there is a purpose for me somewhere or I wouldn’t still be an occupant on this plant. But for right now I’m still searching.  Still searching for that thing that makes my heart flutter when I think about it. Still searching for someone, something, anyone or anything to say “Hey!  We need you here!  We’ve been waiting for a person just like you!”

I want to be wanted. I want to be needed. Right now, I feel neither of those things.  With this pandemic I actually do have a lot of roles to fill.  I’m back to cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, for everybody in the house because they are either working from home or taking online classes or both. People ask me why I do this.  I say, “Why not?”  I’ve been looking for an Accounting job but no luck so far.  I hate thinking negatively but many times I find myself thinking, “Who wants an Accountant who hasn’t accounted for anything except her kids for 20+ years?”

Yes, I’m lost.  But I will find my way.  God has a purpose and plan for me.  For whatever reason I either haven’t seen it yet, or it hasn’t been shown to me yet.  Or maybe both.  I will make it.  I will reinvent myself into something /someone I never thought I could be. And when I do, I will look back on my life and see all the paths and roads that brought me to this place.  I refuse to give up hope.  After all, without hope, what is there?  Well, I am here.  Ready for my new beginning and I fully believe that a new beginning awaits me.  After I find my way from where I was to where I am supposed to be.

~Sherri

Lord Help Me Become

Lord help me….I’m sure you’ve seen the bumper sticker that reads, “Lord please help me to become the person my dog thinks I am.” Yea, that too, but I’d rather be the person my 7 year old son believes I am.

I could never be the “World’s Best Mother”. I couldn’t if I tried. Motherhood has got to be the most rewarding, fulfilling, but incredibly and insanely difficult job ever imagined! There are so many thinks to take into consideration. This is my chance to make the world a better place, to donate the best adult I can to this world. Each night I go into his room to check on him after he goes to sleep and each night I pray I can do justice to God’s Precious Gift to Me. I pray I can be what he needs me to be, and the strength to follow through to be a better mother. But to my son, he thinks I’m the World’s Best Mom simply because we went to Taco Bell.

I’ve also been told I “rock”. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but I’m guessing that’s a good thing… Last night at his Boy Scout Meeting, they had “Paper Airplane Derbies”. If you haven’t been to a Boy Scout Meeting, it’s predominately a “guy thing”. At most of his Boy Scout functions, I’m a bit out of my element. Take the camping trip a couple weeks ago: 8 little guys, 7 grown ones, and me. The only girl. But I go, have fun, go hiking, and sleep on the ground, even though I prefer “Camp Marriott” or “Camp Holiday Inn”. I’m learning how fathers and sons interact, and am taking notes you see, I’m a single mother. It can be tough to be a single mother. But you know what? Apparently, I’m doing OK! All it took for my son to say, “Mom, you rock!” was knowing how to fold a great paper airplane. Who knew? He lost, but you know what? I rocked!

He tells me I’m the “World’s Best Cooker”. I’ve made my mom’s recipe of Mac and Cheese accompanied by Bar-Be-Que Weenies…one of his favorites. I almost have it – never being quite as good my mother’s, of course. I’ve tried several ways to fry chicken, finally have a way that’s almost as good as KFC’s – almost. I’ve read cookbooks, made pastries, fresh biscuits, and fresh pasta with only flour, eggs, mild, and a rolling pin. Yet to become the “World’s Best Cooker”, all it takes is a cheap box of mac and cheese and an even cheaper can of hot dog sauce. Necessity is the mother of invention: I call it Chili Mac, and it costs about $1.00 to make.

But when I look in the mirror, I don’t see the “World’s Best Mom”, or “The World’s Best Cooker”. I see an aging single women who never reached her full potential. I see every mistake I made, re-live every bad choice I ever made, and feel my heart ache for that one great guy I pushed away. I see all the choices made leading to the fact I’m a single mother.

I see my former classmates conquering the world, setting out to do the very things they dreamed and said they would do. I know in my heart of was capable of the same accomplishments, but I’m here struggling with meal planning on $1.00. My choices and were different. Maybe I should have done this, maybe I should have done that…and I would be able to provide better for my son. However, I woke up one day almost 40 years old, graying hair, never married, no house of my own, no new car, no savings account…and every goal I set for myself unfinished. I re-live some mistakes and bad choices, and see the lost opportunities. Mistake after mistake after mistake. I see a person who loves her son dearly, but could’ve done a better job of providing if only…

“Mamma”, my son asks, “did you ever do anything wrong?”

How does he see an entirely different person? How does that happen?

If I could just be the person my son believes I am…

Not a day goes by that I don’t love my son more and more. Last night when his paper airplane didn’t win, he was upset. I explained good sportsmanship, sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. He was still upset, a mix of being mad and crying. I tried to get him to laugh. He said he wanted to stay mad and didn’t want to laugh. Well, he started laughing. He looks up at me, immediately smiles, and gives me the BIGGEST hug and says, “Mom, we sure have some good times, don’t we?”

I wouldn’t change my life for anything.

 

Something Positive For A Change,

Karen

The View From Here, A Maine Focus

 

I wrote this 18 years ago, and my son is now 24 years old. He paid his way through college with no debt, bought and paid for his car that is nicer and newer than anything I have ever owned. He is preparing to move into his brand new and freshly built home with his girlfriend with a balcony view of the ocean. I was a proud mom then, and an even prouder mom now! 

Being A Mom Of A Tween

Being the mom of a tween….

It is Saturday evening and the  Foo Fighters “White Limo” is blaring in my ears.

No crazy beverage, just ice water.

I’m enjoying the sunset and the moon is starting to come out. As much as I dread how early it’s getting dark again, I will always appreciate a calm summer night.

Especially after the last couple days. My daughter turned thirteen, a tween, in June and for the most part… no blowouts.

Until the middle of this past week.

I went into her room before I started my work day and asked her to get cleaned up.

Mind you she is not asked to do much. She has a few chores but my rules I think aren’t too crazy.

Out of nowhere I get a side eye and an attitude the size of Texas.

I stand there for a second.

I calmly say. “You know what I don’t deserve to be talked to that way and it doesn’t feel good. Get dressed.”

“Mom I didn’t mean to”

“No, I’m not doing this.”

I walked out of her room. Because I’m ashamed to say, I got teary. My worst fear happened.

All the books. The articles.

Granted this wasn’t huge. But she’s never given me the attitude. It hurt. It hurts because I get the attitude and I know all the sacrifices that are made in this house. All the things that are done for her. 

I started answering emails. When she came into my room and flopped on my bed.

“Mom I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too kid. This is a weird time isn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too Mom. I am crabby. I’m kinda mad about stuff.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes and I need hugs”

And we did. For about an hour. We are both wearing our emotions closer to the surface than probably normal. She misses certain routines. There are pieces of her life that have dramatically changed. She is worried. 

I have said this before, sometimes in all of this we don’t stop and take a breath. Listen. Ask. Tell.

We don’t always meet people with grace. Now sometimes they don’t deserve it, but I’ll let you figure that out.

When we got done talking I thanked my daughter. I told her I know it’s hard to share but I’d rather hear the hard stuff than have her feel the way she did.

And this rollercoaster ride of being a Mom of tween continues.

 

Be safe and much love Mommas.

<3 Caprise

I Need A Reality Check

I need a reality check…

As I write this as I do every week I am listening to music this week it’s NEEDTOBREATHE “Banks.”

One of the lyrics is “baby  you don’t have to do it by yourself. Want be there when darkness closes in to make the truth a little clearer.”

While I am an incredibly independent person. I keep quite a bit of my life private.

I have moments.

Especially right now in the midst of all of this. I gesture broadly. I begin to wonder as I watch the tenth  romcom on Netflix and  say I don’t want it, but really I do. If I ever will. Have it. That elusive kinda all or nothing relationship and maybe that’s a deep dive for another time.

I have moments where  I feel less than. Where the littlest thing feels like the biggest thing. Where I absolutely can not see that light at the end of the tunnel. Where I second guess everything.

Then the guilt comes. I have so much. More than a lot of other people especially right now.

But in this I have gotten to live in my head a little.

Ok, a lot.

I need a reality check.

There are so many things I wish I could take back. There are so many things I wish I could say. There are so many things I wish I had done.

I am heading into my fifth month of essentially wearing outfits that can be work or nighttime wear as I rarely leave the house.  I really can’t stand seeing my face on ZOOM anymore.

I started out with a pixie and now have graduated to a shaggy bob.

I’m really not sure if I will be able to wear shoes or jeans again.

Meanwhile, I am doing that thing you/ I should never do. I’m comparing myself to these women who are baking the banana bread, teaching their children French and look immaculate everyday.

I might be exaggerating a little.

We’ve been put in this fishbowl and now things I normally don’t see or wouldn’t see or don’t care about.

There they are.

In my face.  All the time.

But then out of nowhere while I am writing this very blog, having a gigantic pity party.

My taller than, me thirteen year old asks if she can have a cuddle.

She gets a pillow and puts it in my lap. She gets quiet. I ask her what’s wrong.

She gestures at the air.

“This.”

I hug her.

Suddenly I really don’t care that I have been living in t-shirts. I can’t imagine how she is feeling. Her school year ended abruptly. She couldn’t celebrate becoming a teenager with a big party like we had hoped. She sees her friends sporadically and when they do see each other it’s six feet apart with masks because we are in the part of the country where cases are spiking. Her new school year will be virtual. She won’t get to play the only sport she loves.

She has only seen her Dad once.

And in all of this you know what SHE did? She took my phone and put daily reminders telling I’m beautiful. I’m loved. She put post it’s on the mirrors with positive sayings.

She always says I love you. I get all the hugs I can handle.

Even during all of THIS.

THIS is something I continue to struggle to put words to. But I’m incredibly thankful for the amazing human that keeps it real for me.

My reality check.

No more pity parties. I am not less than I am someone’s Mom and that is definitely more than enough.

Much love Mommas

Be safe

<3 Caprise

So Much More Than That

I am not just a wife; I am so much more than that.

I am not just a mom; I am so much more than that.

I am not just a cook; I am so much more than that.

I am not just a chauffeur; I am so much more than that.

I am not just a housekeeper; I am so much more than that.

I am not just an employee; I am so much more than that.

I am not just a boo-boo kisser; I am so much more than that.  

So then what am I?  I’m so glad you asked.  

I am the daughter of The King.

I am intelligent.

I am a creator and an innovator.

I am a vessel through which life is brought.

I am bold yet humble.

I am beautiful.

I am a superhero.

I am a woman!

You see, before I became a wife or a mother or anyone of those other things that make me who I am, I was a woman.  So often, I tend to forget who I once was, and get stuck in the day to day of being the “just a”.  I find myself hearing other people discuss things that they are doing, and I think to myself that I am “just a…”.  But this just isn’t true.  I am and always will be an intelligent, beautiful, bold and unique woman.  I will always be the creative daughter of The King.  I can never loose sight of that.  In the midst of my daily life, I have to remember her.  I have to keep alive the woman who grew to become the wife, mom, chef, chauffeur, boo-boo kisser etc.  I have to cherish and nurture her.  I have to fight for her.  I have to love her.  When I do this, I am no longer “just a”.  When I do this, I am so much more than that!

 

~1spentmom~

Friday Night At Walmart

Have you ever found yourself at Walmart on a Friday or Saturday night? Like, at 9 o’clock? I did. Once. It was then I realized just how much my life has changed since starting a family. Could this really be the highlight of my weekend? That I have some cash in my purse and I can go out on Friday night…to Walmart? To buy Butt Paste, paper towels and socks? Really?

Wow. I guess so.

It’s ok, though, because I quickly realized that I wasn’t alone. Besides the trouble-making tweens in the toy department riding the bikes up and down the aisles, and the extremely ego-pumped twenty somethings in the cosmetic aisle looking for the right shade of lip gloss before she heads out to the clubs…we have us. Us moms. With a fresh 20 dollar bill in our purse. Maybe more.

Here we are, adding up our purchases in our heads. Aimlessly browsing through the jammed packed shelves. With a carriage full of kids who won’t sit down.

Then there’s the clothing section. Do I go in? Nope. I browse from the aisle. I see “us’ poking through clothes looking for something that’ll make us feel pretty, AND that fits. Impossible, by the way. There are women who are trying stuff on from the misses department hoping it’ll fit, and they will look good. But deep down they know it won’t. We know those denim mini skirt days are gone….Looooooong gone. Not for some, but for most.

One thing is for sure…that blouse will look great with that knock-off coach bag I saw at the Flea Market last week end.

But I learned an important thing from that Friday night at Walmart.

All of us at Walmart, with carriages full of kids who won’t sit down, are where we belong…with the kids we love. Inevitably we put the blouse back and settle on a necessity instead. Baby wipes. Tooth paste, Under Roos.

And so what? As I stood in line and looked around at the Moms beside me, I realized what good mommies we were. And I Smiled at the tiny little thing with the fake tan in front of me with her lip gloss, and trouble makers as they high five each other out the door. Because I know it will be them soon enough, standing here with a carriage full of kids that won’t sit down.

~Lynn

From Married Boy Mom to Single Boy Mom

Being a boy mom is both amazing and gross.  The love between a mother and a son is indescribable, but so are the smells.

The moment I saw those two pink lines on that little white stick, I knew I was having a boy.  I wasn’t shocked one bit when the ultrasound technician confirmed that three months later.  What I didn’t know was that 9 years after his birth I would go from a married boy mom to a single boy mom.

I grew up as a total girly-girl.  Bugs, dirt, and fart jokes just weren’t my thing.  That was something that I left up to his dad.  I quickly realized as the divorce proceedings began that I was going to be doing most of the parenting on my own, and that meant I had to become comfortable with all things boy so that my son was comfortable with all things boy.

These are a few things I’ve learned during my transition from a married boy mom to a single boy mom.

Expecting him to be the “man of the house” wasn’t fair.

At first, I tried making the transition fun by telling my son he was going to be the “man of the house” now.  I thought it would make him feel special and give him something to look forward to, but instead, it made him feel like he had to grow up too fast.

I had to realize that expecting him to fill the opening left by his 41-year-old father wasn’t just unrealistic, it wasn’t fair.  Just because his father and I are divorced doesn’t mean he doesn’t still get to be a kid and do kid things.  Sure, he needs to chip in a little more around the house, but he shouldn’t feel the need to be the protector or the provider.  That’s my job now.

A positive male role model was incredibly important for him.

After my divorce, I was kind of anti-male.  I wanted to prove that I was an independent woman and that I could do this whole life thing- including parenting- on my own.  While I’m certainly capable, I understood that my son still craved positive attention from male role models and that I needed to support that.

That didn’t mean I had to go out and find him a step-father.  I didn’t have to look far to find many positive male role models for him.  My father, brother-in-law, nephews, friends, and even my son’s teachers stepped up to the plate.  Although it was difficult to admit, there are some things as a female that I just don’t get.  The “guy stuff” was still important for my son to learn and I needed to respect that.

 ​He needed to see my ups and downs, but not be burdened by them.

This whole single-mom thing isn’t easy.  Life is busy enough, but taking on the work of two people can feel overwhelming at times.  At first, I tried to act like everything was totally fine in front of my son because I didn’t want to feel weak or for him to worry.

I realized that I wasn’t doing either of us any favors by hiding my feelings and that this, in fact, could be a great learning experience for him.  I started talking about age-appropriate things with him and made it clear that he could ask questions if he wanted to, and I saw the anxiety melt away from him.  This whole time I was trying to hide things so he wouldn’t worry, but it was just causing him to wonder and worry even more.

Seeing his mom go through struggles, but to push through them and become stronger because of them is only going to make him more humble, determined, and able as he grows up.

 ​Being “one of the guys” is actually pretty cool.

Before my divorce, I was kind of left out of the “guy stuff”.  I didn’t really know what I was missing.  Cars, video games, football, hockey, fishing, and yes, even fart jokes, aren’t so bad after all.

I’m still not a fan of bugs, but that’s what exterminators are for.  Watching this boy grow into a man is pretty amazing.  Seeing the wheels turn as he watches YouTube videos about how to fix things or listen to him talking about how when he grows up, he’s going to buy a McLaren P1, is incredibly special.

I would have missed all these moments if I were still a married boy mom.  I’m learning that this whole single boy mom thing is just as wonderful, if not more.  I still get to be a girly-girl, but I have a tough side now that makes me feel like a warrior.  Soft, strong, and one proud boy mom.

-Lindsay, The Divorced Mama Bear

instagram.com/thedivorcedmamabear

Elvis Has Left The Building

Elvis has left the building…

Last Saturday we moved the kiddo to NY where he got his first apartment and will go to school and work and make a life that is separate from mine…after 19 years.

I like the area a lot, it’s a good area for a 19 year old to make a life, much more to do than in VT. The drive over is easy, it’s only 1.5 hours away and he is doing well and finding his way. He doesn’t know anyone there, he just decided that he liked the area, found himself an apartment, had me go over and look at the area and then BOOM…they accepted his application for the apartment on the Tuesday after Memorial Day and he asked me to get him moved that Saturday—-so I rented us a Penske truck and away we went.

He is just like me you know…making a decision and then executing it cleanly and concisely…no drama, no bullshit just doing the next thing. He is also like me in that he picked an area that he felt was best for him and then even though he was terrified he just did it anyway. People are telling me how brave he is and how I did such a good job that he was able to go and do this…

And me? I’m over here wandering around my CLEAN and QUIET house wondering what the hell just happened…

I think that I am still digesting the fact that we will never live under the same roof again—- some of you likely know what a strange freaking feeling that really is. In some ways single Moms are the only ones that can comprehend this fully because they know what it is like to put your head down and focus on one thing—-the kid—and just keep doing the next thing until one day one level of it is complete.

So I keep asking myself, “NOW WHAT?”—who am I if I am not that, what do I want to do now that I am free to decide??? I have spent 19 years just doing what needed to be done to make sure that this kid had everything that he needed and to make sure that we had enough money to pay the bills etc etc. I just had my head down and I lifted it a bit when he graduated and started working and now I am free to lift it all the way and it’s WEIRD. There is no other way to describe it— it isn’t bad, it is just weird.

Now what? Now what? Now what? I don’t know…I mean of course I have a job and people count on me to do it, so I will keep doing that. Trying to get used to nobody bothering me every second of the day because during this pandemic with his restaurant closed that is what was happening—-he was literally driving me mad—s-l-o-w-l-y…

The moving was a blessing to both of us and of course I just want him to be happy and functional (LOL) and a good person and learn how to budget!!! Pretty normal shit.

It is so clean here—as in when I clean something it stays clean—-imagine that!?!? That I will gladly get used to—- we talk daily and he is doing well and I am processing and truly all is well. It is just different…19 years of doing something is a long time.

I got the job done though, of that I am certain—- I am looking forward to seeing what he does now and trying very hard to let him figure shit out while providing support— that is a new concept for the chick that wants to fix and save everyone— I’m learning my way as I go…

Onward—-have a good week. I will be back for Coffee Chat soon, maybe even this Sunday— I just haven’t felt like it for a few weeks— I will get there— Blessings and love to you all.

-XO, Noelle

Sass Does Not Live Here

Sass does not live here…

“She’s a teenager” : “He’s hungry” No And NO. There is no excuse that you should take sass from your children. It is disrespectful, rude and selfish along with a ton of other adjectives.

I’ve mentioned before, it is your job as a single mom to raise up your kids Raise them up on the days where you’ve had enough, when you’re hangry and over-tired, when you want to lock yourself in the bathroom, the basement, the car. Yes…on those days. You’re to raise them up to be responsible adults who; move out rather than live at home till they’re 30, don’t quit their 7th job because they didn’t get their way, don’t talk back to their teacher, don’t bully other kids & don’t ignore their grandparents when they come to visit.

How? Is that what you’re saying? HOW? Consequences. YUP! Write up an ‘if this’; ‘then that’ list.

When my son got sassy with me, he lost extracurricular activities, bedtime became earlier and his chores increased. It’s up to you to talk about the consequences to their behavior and stick to it! It works.

Another thing that works well is to “act like they act”. When my son was a teenager, a few different times when I would ask him to do something for me and he said “NO”…I would act like him..I’d roll my eyes, cross my arms & storm off stomping my feet, acting as if it was the end of the world. Saying under my breath like he does “You’re so mean”. This behavior caught him off guard. He realized quickly I was mocking him & he did not like what he saw.

I would also, when he was a teenager,  “say what they say”. One day I asked him, “Hey bud, can you mow the yard for me today?” He said “I’ll mow it tomorrow, OK? I’m tired” I said okay, and let it go. Later that week he asked me to drive him to his friends house. I told him…. “I’ll take you tomorrow, OK? I’m tired.” “What!?,” he exclaimed, “I don’t want to go tomorrow, I want to go now.” I reminded him it was kinda like the other day when he was too tired to mow. That was the last time he told me no when I asked him to mow. LOL

Good luck girls.

xoxo

Your God-girl

Tracy