Bedtime with Teens

Every night, I try to go to bed between 8 and 9pm, if I am home in time.  I like to clean the kitchen and tidy the living room.  Counters are wiped, the table is shiny, life is good.

Then.  The girls come home.

The girls are both working at the same job, and will oft ride home together around 9pm.  As they pull up, I am basically a goner.  I kind of turn into a crazy person at night now when I am tired.  Because I just want to go to sleep, but I still have four kids and I have to still me a mom.  So, I shout from my bed.

“Brush your teeth!”

I just shout this randomly a couple of times a night, hoping that a few of them are actually brushing their teeth.  I do not know how successful I am.  But we currently have about three open tubes (lids missing, of course) of toothpaste in the toothbrush drawer, so I am optimistic.  And no one has ever had a cavity.  So there’s that.

I also shout, “Lock the doors!”  and “TV off”  and “Phones Away!”  and “I hope your homework is done!”

And then I am out.

Well, the girls come home and all hopes of a tidy, peaceful house are gone.

They walk in all perky, wanting to run social event requests by me, hungry, informing me that they can’t put their phones away because they still have homework (our phones are our internet), and yada, yada, yada.

The other night, I hear them cooking.  Right after I cleaned the kitchen!

Me (shouting):  THAT KITCHEN BETTER BE CLEAN IN THE MORNING!

Girls (annoyed):  WE KNOW, MOM.

As I am about to fall asleep, fear and panic grips my body.  Because this is what happens to moms at night.  We get paranoid.

I remember that Sweet Pea, for the life of her, can NEVER remember to turn off a stove burner.

Ever.

I am now too tired to move or shout.  So I text Daisy Mae to make sure all burners are off before bed.

Her reply:  “K.  But did you know SP already melted the colander  on the burner?

It is too late and I cannot deal with this.

Once again, I am almost asleep, when World War III ensues.

I cannot be certain, but I believe one girl was inconvenienced by the other girl regarding a cell phone charger.

Much shouting.

SP is standing over me, with all the fury of a 16 year old.  Which is a lot.

SP: MOM!  She STOLE my charger!  STOLE IT!  DO SOMETHING.

Now, here is something you might not know about me.  I am mostly deaf in my right ear.  If I lay on my left ear, all the noises go away.

Oh, it is amazing.

I mean, I am sure I would hear like a smoke alarm go off or something, but other than that, nope.

So, it is now like 9:45pm and I am completely over all the things.  And I tell my 16 year old a phrase that I often tell my students when they come to me with a problem that they are fully capable of solving on their own.  Like when they come to tell me their pencil is no longer sharp.  And since DAY ONE I have taught them where to place dull pencils and where to find sharpened pencils.

I sat up.  I said, “Please, solve your problem,” in my most calmest teacher voice and I laid on my good ear and went to sleep.

I do not know how the problem solving went.  Everyone was still alive in the morning and no one had a dead cell phone.

I walked out to the kitchen around 4:30am.

Every cabinet and drawer was open.  Dishes were all over the place.  White plastic was completely melted over a burner.  A burnt colander was in the garbage can (win!).  Backpacks, clothes, socks, books, and shoes were strewn about.  It was like a war zone.

I am stuck in a crazy cycle.  I have to get up early to clean the house before we leave, and since I get up early, I want to go to bed early, and since I go to bed early, the kids have a free for all, and so on.

Crazy cycle.

***

It is only October and school is kicking my hiney.

This week, I wore THE SAME EXACT JEANS three days in a row.  Just kept picking them up off the floor and putting them on again.  That is like “Teacher in May” behavior.  Not October.  What will I look like in May?  I shudder at the thought.

First grade is fun and exhausting.

A kiddo who was new to our school and not in my class ran up to me at recess.

Boy:  Can I hug you?  Because you look like someone I know.  And I think you might be pretty!

Me:  Alright, then!  Let’s hug!

Very smooth.

One of my girls came to my desk yesterday.  She was very upset and could hardly tell me what was bothering her.  I shall use made up names, so don’t get your panties in a knot.

Jane:  Jill asked if I would share my markers with her.  And I said no.

Me:  Ok.  Was Jill mad at you?

Jane (wiping her eyes):  No.

Me:  Did she look at you rudely?

Jane:  No.

Me:  Honey, what is the matter?

Jane (crying again):  I think I made her feel sad by not sharing!

Me:  Would you like to tell her you are sorry and you want to share with her now?

Jane (still crying):  Yes!

Precious.

Check out this little project I did with my students.

Here is one from a sweet little pumpkin.

I enjoy it because I feel like her rendition of what the principal looks like is the most terrifying image in the world.  Yes, she feels the principal helps people when they are scared.

And my little English learner guy.  No matter how many times, I tried, he kept telling me the same thing over and over:

“She is a robot!”

***

We have three dogs.  Which is too many.  First, we have Tank.  Tank is old  and everyone loves him.  We have had him for a long time, maybe 7 or 8 years.  He is 11.

Next, we have Abbie.  We got Abbie for HD’s 10th birthday.  She has a crush on David and follows him everywhere.  Everyone loves her.

Finally, we have Cali.  Cali is David’s brother’s dog.  We are keeping her for now and maybe forever until he can make it work for her to live with him.

Abbie and Cali, the girl dogs, are very competitive with each other and poor Tank just tries to stay out of their way.  Each girl likes to think of herself as the boss-pants when it comes to the food dish and will growl at each other when the other comes near.  Poor Tank waits until both girls are distracted, and then he runs to the food dish, takes a few bits of kibble, and runs and hides to try and eat it in peace.

The girls have to sleep in kennels at night, lest they wander and pee/poo/get into garbage.  Abbie has a kennel and since Abbie claimed that kennel, Cali wants it.  Cali has a kennel that she is forced to settle for.  Tank gets the dog bed.

This morning, David let the gals out to go to the bathroom around 430 am, because, even though it is Saturday, this is when we wake up.  Cali came in and did not like that Tank was on the dog bed.  She is kind of a brat.

The hanger is there, because, life.

Tank is the all black dog.

Some nights, Cali is super crafty and sneaks into Abbie’s kennel before Abbie gets in there.  I whisper, “Nice, Job,” to her and make Abbie go in the inferior kennel.

If David is around, Abbie “tells” on Cali.  She barks and makes a big fuss.  David makes Cali get out and let’s Abbie in.

I will have to ask Abbie how she has gotten David wrapped around her finger (paw?).

Happy Weekend!