“My Momma Wears Combat Boots!”

UPDATE:  In yesterday’s post I posed the question “To Wallop The Bitch Or Not?”. Surprisingly, you readers reacted different from what I thought you would. There wasn’t one “Beat the bitch’s ass!” in the bunch. Hmmm? Well, kudo’s to all of you for being mature, responsible people, and handing out wise/sound advice! I’m happy to say that possible jail/injury/irreversible hard feelings have been averted, and it looks like the problems with my son’s, girlfriend’s mother are working themselves out. At least for now, anyway. The Bi-polar Bitch changed her tune again–I truly think she’s in need of some serious meds like anti-psychotic drugs or something–and has decided that my son is acceptable enough for her daughter to date. If you’re wondering whether I’m chomping at the bit right now in anticipation of what’s next… why yes I am, thank you for your concern, and let me add a final “Just give me one freakin reason at this point to jump ugly on her!” to the answer. I say this because her arrogance infuriates the hell out of me, and the fact that she still thinks she’s the deciding factor in any of this I find incredulous. Hell, even I know that there’s only so much pull any of us has with a teenager, and when it comes to matters of the heart or who they are friends with, count your blessings if they’re decent, because whatever you may think it’s never going to be your choice. NEVER! Are we clear on that so no one is still under this illusion?

I’m proud of my son the way he handled it. He never let his temper get the best of him like it’s capable of–just bad-breeding, there’s no other excusehe never said anything harsh that he couldn’t take back, and in fact was more mature than I was in this. Now that the Bi-polar Bitch has given them the green-light to see each other again, and is completely back-peddling on everything she said, my son has decided that she’s not only a Bi-polar Bitch, but a fake one. He told his girlfriend that he no longer likes her mother, he doesn’t like phony people, and that he thought it was real ‘chicken-shit’ of her mom not to respond to the message I left for her to call me so we could resolve this. His exact words were “Yeah, your mom knew better, cause she knows my mom will kick her ass!”. Okay, okay…I know it’s very wrong of me to actually enjoy him acting this way, but dammit…I bust my ass for this kid, I hardly ever get any adoration or proper respect from him, so let me bathe in the hero worship whenever it’s available, no matter how I get it! Okay? Geeze!!!

Well, today is the last day of school around here. I don’t know whether to say Yay! or Nay!. Yay, being that I don’t have to wake up at six am for the next few months if I don’t want to, spend a fortune and damn near have to sell a kidney to fund his lunches and the a la carte items needed to fill him up, or wash endless piles of clothes (Young men nowadays live in board shorts and little else in the summertime. You’re doing good if you can get them to wear a shirt). The Nay part is…well, he’s going to be home whenever he feels like it! Eh, not that I run much of a risk with that, but also have the added worry when he’s not that he might be getting into mischief. Okay, so I know this kid plans on being here till he graduates, which because of the prior bullshit with his father means I’m going to have him till he’s 19, but at least if I can hurry up and get him to 18 I’m not responsible if he screws up. This I believe is the greatest concern for the parent of a teenager: That your daughter doesn’t get knocked up and you end up having to raise baby, or that your son doesn’t get into trouble with damaging property, or fines from fighting, speeding, etc…that you have to pay for. It’s all about getting them from about 15 to 18 with as little drama /trouble as possible, so you can finally say “Nope…not my problem anymore! You mess up, you fix it!”

So today’s post was basically all about parenting and the little ‘kickbacks’ it gives you. Wait!…What kickbacks?…Oh yeah, the few times that your teen might actually be proud of you. Sorry, I’m still basking in the glory. Hey, this is a kid who can’t see how ‘cool’ I actually am ((cough)) and seldom has compliment one for me. I take ’em when I can get ’em!  

“Yeah, your mom knew better, cause she knows my mom will kick her ass!”.  I could just wipe away a tear. I always told my boys if anyone ever calls them an S.O.B. to smile and say, “Yes, I am and my momma worked hard for that name and is proud of it!”  He actually paid attention to something I said! My cup runneth over…

10 thoughts on ““My Momma Wears Combat Boots!”

    1. Well, Thank you.
      You know I’m really surprised that I didn’t catch flack from one person over this. I thought someone would say “Oh, grow up!”, but apparently you can get away with being immature and impossible to deal with where your kids are concerned. Ha..ha..
      It works for me, because I have a short fuse where family is concerned.

  1. “She knows my mom will kick her ass!” That’s freaking awesome. With any kind of luck, #1 is graduating on June 23rd. My hopes of her moving out have been dashed though. We’re gonna have to ride this one out for a while. Ah well.

    1. I understand completely. When my son had to move back in with us a year ago, all he could talk about was how much he hated the country and wanted to just hurry up and get his GED so he could get out on his own. Then he tossed around the idea of Job Corp, because he wasn’t sure he just wanted a GED to carry him. Then he started getting used to it here, got back into high school, and changed his tune to when he’s 18 maybe getting a place with friends. Now all the sudden he’s looking at me and asking, “You’re going to let me stay here until I completely finish school aren’t you?” Now don’t get me wrong, I love my son, but I’m starting to suspect that reality is beginning to set in for him, he knows time at home is running out, and he’s beginning to get scared of the real world. My question is….finish what school? High school, college, what? I’m starting to wonder if I’m going to end up with a forty year old kid under my roof. Do you ever get the feeling it just may not ever end?

      1. Yep. I know too many people whose mid-to-late-twenties kids are still at home. I’m doing what I can to make it as uncomfortable as possible for them to entertain that scenario without going so far as to say no. I’m considering becoming a nudist.

    2. Okay, I don’t mean to make you squeamish and start ripping off your clothes right now (ha.ha), but I used the word forty for a good reason. The second to the oldest sister in my family is thirteen years older than me. I guess that would make her about 61? (I’m terrible with ages and birthdays.)Anyway, she has two kids, and the youngest is still at home. Her first child is very responsible, has a husband, and two children. The we-can’t-get-rid-of-you kid is forty, has been married, has had kids, but the bulk of his adult life has been spent living there. I love my sister dearly, but they make a lot of excuses for him. He’s in and out of work all the time, so they carry him a lot. My current husband is younger than me and the same age as this nephew of mine. It absolutely appalls him that a grown man would want to live this way, and can’t figure out why they still let him. I mean, they know he’s never leaving so have made provisions for him so he has a place to live when they die. WTF? God, someone be that generous to me, already!
      I don’t want to scare you, but thought I’d better enlighten you and tell you that it can happen. These sneaky damn kids are professional ass-kissers and charmers when they want to be, and I know I have to keep my guard up or I could be stuck for say…another twenty years. I’d give it a couple years at best and then start stripping, sister!

  2. See…that’s my problem! I’m glad someone finally said that: “You’re going to get a taste of me at 15!”
    When I was 16-plus years old I was the most foul-mouthed, in-your-face-and-I-don’t-give-a-damn-who-you-are-who-you-know-or-how-damn-big-you-are person you’ve ever met. I just plain didn’t care if I got my ass kicked or not, as long as they knew I was there. My mother made it clear while I was growing up that if I was right, I knew I was right, then I wasn’t allowed to let anyone convince me I was wrong. People can smell weakness, and will feed upon that if you let them. People like to bully. I’ve lost a lot of that edge. Years of marriage, growing up, trying to set a better example, etc. will do that to you. Mess with my children though, and I feel on fire like a teenager again.
    And no offense, we love ya, but we don’t think you’re that affable. ha..ha.. I can smell an edge on someone a mile away. 😉

  3. If there’s every been a better conclusion to a post, I sure don’t remember it.

    Also, it reminds me of a conversation I keep having with my brother.

    Bro: Back when you were all goth and sh!t–
    Deb: I was never goth.
    Bro: Yeah, you were. All the black eyeliner and stuff.
    Deb: No, you’re thinking of Rache. I was the drill sergeant with short hair and combat boots, remember?
    Bro: Oh, yeah. Rache was the goth, huh?

    I hope no one assumes based on my present-day affability they’re going to get away with messing with my son. I may be affable, but if you mess with my loved ones, you’re going to get a taste of me at 15! I haven’t exiled her. I’ve just gotten a better grasp on when to bust her out. :p

  4. Holy crap Lou, that next-to-last paragraph is my life with my high school senior. His stepdad and I are holding our collective breathes until he graduates June 10, and moves out the next week. I hate living with held breathe to find out what the next phone call brings, school suspension, a wild party, the car in a ditch? Motherhood is not for the timid! Love your blog!!

    1. Thank you on the blog-love! And don’t I know it about the timid part. I learned with the first two that you can’t be uptight about every little thing, kids will be kids and you gotta roll with the punches, and when it gets to you stand in the middle of the room and “shake it off!” Like I told my ex-husband who bitched about absolutely everything this kid did, “If the cops aren’t called, there’s no drugs in his room, and he isn’t getting kicked out of school for anything, call it a good day. You can put up with a damn mouth and attitude.”
      Don’t sweat the petty stuff. Sweat the petty stuff. It’s all good!

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