The Downside of Parenting

Kids.
Really, kids will be the end of me.
Perhaps if life were set up so that there were two loving parents in a 1950's experience, that'd be fine.
But kids.
The cooking, cleaning, ferrying around, providing, nurturing and coaching is fine.
It's the blatant defiance that gets on my last nerve.


I was raised to not defy an adult who was in charge of me, with a caveat that they were not exercising unrighteous dominion.  It would never have occurred to me to say no I won't.  I would never have tried to shove a parent off of a bed when they were sat, dressed, waking you for classes and trying to do it nicely.  I would never have yelled at a righteous parent to get out.  This child in question has been raised in love, the child has had anything which needed explaining, explained, they are bright, and they have to this point been compliant and done as they are asked but things are deteriorating.  As well as hurting my kidneys, it hurts my feelings, which I think may even be worse (and I am a tough broad).  I am busting a gut here to give a positive childhood and adolescent experience to my kiddo and they are, on occasion, nasty and I do not like that one little bit.


Now - up wafts the brass band to evoke days of yore - but when I was a kid, I would have got a clip round the ear for that kind of behaviour but those responses are frowned upon nowadays.  I don't have time to worry about somebody's feelings at 0600hrs when we need to leave at 0615hrs for an almost daily commitment, but I make the time.  I don't want to know what their motivation is, how prepared are they for the day, have I loved them enough this week (YES, I have), do they have a consistent bedtime (YES, they do), and I have places to be too so taking two hours nearly out of my morning shows you just how important I think this daily commitment is.


If a 5' 10" adolescent is bordering on violence toward you, how would you manage that situation and still get everyone where they need to be, on time?  Because I am out of ideas which work well first time, and there isn't time for things to work well second or third time because my kidneys cannot take another pummelling. And quite frankly, neither can my feelings.