I hate you

Anyone remember being "young"?

Young as in carefree, silly, naive and it was oook?

Young as in rebellious, obnoxious and a little stinky?

Does anyone remember wanting to divorce your parents because they made you do the unthinkable like clean your room, do the chores and omg! wash behind your ears?

I remember as if it was yesterday....

I worked in a sweatshop for a measely $1 allowance. Homework had to be done before I got to play with friends, of course that's IF I was allowed to have friends. What I'm referring to there is the grueling 12 hour barrage of questions thrown at me about who they were, where they came from and if they had any sort of mental or criminal history in their family since the dawn of time. Forget going to parties or social functions if it just happened to fall on a Monday through Sunday because I had to be in bed by 8 and the next day might have been a school day. I was forced to eat what was on my plate even those things they described as good for me because supposedly it helped me grow strong and tall not to mention all those children in some poor country starving and would have gladly eaten what she so graciously gave me and I should be grateful. Right? Am I right, hmm hmm hmmmm? Then I stomped to my bedroom in defiance, all the while mumbling inaudible curses of I hate you then slammed the door, fell onto my bed and cried myself to sleep...just because it was soo unfair.

See...my mom had this plan from the day I was born... To ruined my life, right? Made me learn and retain knowledge, be self sufficiant and healthy...Damn her.

*invisible slap upside the head* WHAT? What I say? I didn't say nothin??

Yeah I remember those days...and I also remember saying that I would NEVER be the parent my parent was. I was going to be cool and all the kids would love to crash at Mom's house and...and...I totally screwed that one up.

What I percieved my childhood to be like was dramatic to say the least. When we're younger, everything was 1000x more intense with hormones raging and the presence of body hair popping up out of nowhere and even though I had some of the most obnoxious temper tantrums, I was still a pretty good kid due to how Mom brought me up. No I didn't work in a sweatshop but I did have to pick up my own smelly clothes and put them near the washer (turned right side out and seperated, mind you). Our front door was like a revolving gateway of either my friends or my brother's wanting to hang and just happen to be there when dinner was ready and those things that were so good for us, well...I still question that considering I'm not much taller than I was in 5th grade. So as long as I didn't have a potty mouth, home by the time the street lights came on and there were As on the report card, Mom was cool.

Now I find myself in the same position. I've got 2 obnoxious kids that refuse to eat vegetables and if I saw their clothes by the washer, I'd have thought something was amiss... I've more than once declared martial law and entertained the idea of removing the bedroom door all together if it meant that it wouldn't be slammed ever again. And I've have, sad to say...chanted the curse sooo many other moms have, including my own, on several occasions.

Just wait til you have children of your own and I hope they're just like you!

Unfortunately, I have this feeling that a mutiny is about to befall my steadfast defenses and my children will r e b e l against me. I've already had problems arise that deserved my attention and discipline and I will admit, I found myself thinking that I was overly harsh and just like my mom...when I was younger and immature.

Oh whatever, I obviously didn't have a clue and I don't ever remember my mom doing what I had to do but it could be that memory loss thing that I duely suffered from having my ears boxed too many times...or was that my brother's noogy that caused the brain damage, I don't know but being a mom isn't always going to go as planned or predicted, and it's not entirely all fun and games. I fear my children will grow older and view their childhood as something loathesome and it will be all my fault. Boy do they have a lot to learn...

Or maybe it was caused by the residual effects from the bar of soap my son had to use to wash his mouth out... Either way, he hates me...for now. Damn kids.