Mother Journal Entry # 12323452456
Communication is key. But apparently, a teenager’s dialect and language appears to be alien to us, parents. There seems to be some type of miscommunication, misunderstanding, some type of Morse code shenanigans going on, that’s what it is. uh-mayzing. NOT!
Often times, I would hear “Oh, I forgot”.
And seriously I do not want to give these teenagers excuses for being too relaxed with whatever they want to do with their schedules. You speak to them and they comprehend in gibberish perhaps.
*eye-roll* “teenagers” (like, the most of us were once upon an eons ago)
I sat uncomfortably, trembling inside as I spoke to my son while I put myself in this situation once again–just like as if I was the teenager when my own mother spoke to me. At the same time, I was curating a conversation he would understand and appreciate when he gets older. This motherhood gig, it’s not for the faint of heart. As I shook myself to the truth of what is, I was only hoping to be a good honest mother to my one and only kid, seriously.
Days past and I notice an improvement in him. He tends to my needs a little bit more careful, he listens attentively when I speak or talk to him directly. He also probably realized, that as important as he is to us…we are to him too.
Family healing takes three in our home. As much as we get frustrated with each other, it’s impossible not to see that the love reverberates between four walls between us three, is inevitable.