Read Online I've Had It Up to Here with Teenagers by Melinda Rainey Thompson - Free Book Online Page A

Grandparents don’t like to be chastised by their grown children—even when they’re wrong and they know it. We’ll probably be the same way when our teenagers grow up and have children of their own. At some point, you realize that, as an adult, you have to be your kids’ parent, no matter whom you have to stand up to. It’s part of the job description. Check the fine print.
    Parenting offers some shining moments—birthdays, graduations, sports victories, award ceremonies, and lots of “firsts.” But parenting is also cleaning up vomit when your kid has a virus, pacing the corridor while your kid has the broken bones in his arm realigned, and meeting your kid in the principal’s office when you are more ashamed than he or she is. You don’t get to pick and choose. It’s all part of the ride.
    The serpent in the garden is the friend in your kid’s life who has no rules whatsoever. No curfew. No bedtime. No driving restrictions. He’s free in the world and virtually on his own. Neglected kids come from all socioeconomic backgrounds. Some have nannies. Others have parents who are in crises of their own, incompetent, absent, neglectful, or downright mean. All of my kids have had at least one friend like that. Good kids can have God-awful parents, you know. It’s just the luck of the draw.
    At first, my kids thought those friends had it made in theshade. My kids felt that, in contrast, they were forced to live in a harsh prison camp in the suburbs. After all, nobody makes those friends get up for church on Sunday morning. They are the envy of every teenager because they never have curfews or punishments. They can always sleep late. They don’t have to go to school if they don’t feel like it. They can go to R-rated movies whenever they want. They can stay up all night watching television. They’re free to eat out all the time because no one ever cooks dinner at their houses. They’re available to spend the night anytime. They’re never hauled out of bed to do yard work, nor do they have to stay home to study. Over the years, I’ve heard every version of, “He comes to school whenever he wakes up,” “She can wear anything she wants,” “She can stay up as late as she wants,” and “She just comes home whenever she feels like it. She is
so
lucky!”
    The truth, of course, is that nobody cares enough about those kids to see if they’ve done their homework, to check that they’re safely in their beds at night, or to make sure that their baseball pants are washed. You don’t have to have a license or pass a test to become a parent. You don’t have to plan for it. It’s easier to get pregnant and have a baby than it is to adopt a puppy at the pound. You don’t have to make your children a priority in your life. Heck, you’re not legally required to do a good job at parenting, or even to try to do a good job. Scary, isn’t it?
    My kids were convinced that friends with no rules, no limits, and no parental supervision had the best gig going until something happened that made them realize that all that freedom was not necessarily a good thing. The realization came at different times with my kids, of course, but each one had an almost identical wake-up call, a day when they “got it.”
    My kids attend big public schools in our neighborhood. They’re terrific schools, deeply rooted in the community. They offer award-winning academics, sports, and extracurricular activities. They are supported by thousands of volunteer hours from parents and big stacks of tax dollars. Each class looks like a television spot for diversity in color, race, religion, and ethnicity. My kids have learned valuable life lessons in their public-school melting pot.
    At some point or another, each of my kids has had a classmate who said these words: “I wish I lived at your house.” The first time I heard