Showing posts with label curfews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label curfews. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

What the........

As I roll over last night I hear something in the bathroom. Check the clock, it's 1:30 in the morning. I realize the sounds coming from the bathroom are my son's nightly rituals for getting ready for bed. Huh? It's one thirty in the morning, he should be in bed. Especially because they had to get up at 5:30 to go to Cedar Point with our youth group. So I ask you, am I crazy? I know teenagers like to stay up late, but what I cannot figure out is why? Sleep is good, sleep is fun, sleep is necessary. He knew he would not be able to sleep in, so why stay up so late? I don't get it. I really don't.

Then I realized he had been out skateboarding all day and had not checked in. Wrong answer. I asked him this morning when he got home and I believe he was home at curfew. But I dropped him off at like one in the afternoon. Not a word all day. I know he is all of fifteen and can handle himself, but really, throw the momma a bone here.

So, here I sit, perplexed, do I make him wake me up when he gets home, so I know he is safe and sound? Do I rely on his word, which is pretty honest if I do say so myself. He will use this as an excuse to say he should have a cell phone, then I could a hold of him whenever I wanted. That is not going to happen. All his friends have cell phones, I can always embarrass him and call one of them.

I am not sure I will survive these teenage years. Yikes. I wonder if God gives us teenagers to teach us perseverance. Good question when I get to heaven. My only hope is that I know someday, hopefully years from now, I will laugh at him handling his own teenagers. That will be worth the wait.

God bless you and yours.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Where are you going?

So, my children think, all of sudden, they can just walk out the door. "Be home by 9:00 p.m.", they mumble as they slam the front door. When it is ten in the morning and some such caca. Do children lose their memory? Are they new here? I need to know where you are, you need to check in (sometimes on the phone, sometimes face to face) and if plans change, I need to know that too. What the heck? Just because it is summer does not mean it is a free for all. Oh, and do not tell me where you are going. This has never been a democracy. They need to ask if they can go somewhere. Period. I pay the bills, Dad and I work, and we are the sole authorities in their little world.

Am I alone in this? It is mainly the two older ones. Although, since Velocity, Tyler has been better. Grant thinks because he is twelve years old, he has license to rule the neighborhood. Whatever. They will be thirty years old, and if they are still living at home, I need to know where they are going, who they are with, and when they will be home. Mostly, it's common courtesy. To me, as a mother, it is also common sense. If I don't know the parents, you are not sleeping over. If Ms. Stephanie (a made up name) isn't married to her boyfriend, and he lives there, you are not sleeping over.

And what the heck is the whole sleepover thing? Every day or night at least one of my children wants their friends to sleep over or they want to sleep over someone else's house. Come on, I know it is summer, but I am not a fan of sleepovers. Not because of the actual sleeping over. It is from the not sleeping and my kid being a ridiculous crab by 4:00 p.m. the next day. Hate the sleepovers. I am a nazi when kids sleep over. I make them hunker down by 10:00 and no more talking by 11:00. There will never be a need to stay up until 2:00 in the morning if you are under the age of 29. I am a complete tyrant about these things. That being said, I will make big breakfast of eggs, bacon, pancakes, yumminess for all the kids. And I will usually make carnival food for dinner. French fries, chili dogs, all that jazz. I do want them to have some fun, just not every single night of my summer.

How do you feel about where your kids are at? What about sleepovers? Share the love, or the hate for that matter.

God bless you and yours.