Doggone it! When Will I Learn?!
Parenting is just a super long experience of eating crow. If you haven't heard that phrase, basically it's a long experience of saying, "Oh. I'll never do/be/think/act that . . . "and then when faced with the situation- it turns out . . . you did what you said you'd never do.
I had an abrupt and shocking realization today.
I won't lie, when friends with older children have talked about interfering in their children's social lives, I have pompously thought, "I won't do that!" Well- when the situation presented itself, I did interfere. I was cold and calculating, too. And I will continue to do so. I drank the Kool-Aid, I joined the club, and I am an official, card-carrying, "Interfering Mom."
This morning, I was gathering up the kids technology to put up until this evening. (If I don't put it out of sight, they sneak on it ALL DAY!). As I grabbed Andrew's phone, his home screen lit up, and I saw SEVERAL texts. One was from me, asking if he had his phone, so he could tell his Dad to answer the doggone phone! The other . . . 6? 7? were from 2 girls. One I knew of; we'll call her Bertha. The other was from Bertha's friend . . . her friend (cue my slanty, suspicious eyes). Her friend, my son doesn't know-" since she introduced herself as "Martha, Bertha's best friend. My son who clearly needs to be saved from these harlots.
I was immediately irritated. #1- why is Bertha- giving out Andrew's number?! (Uncool! Even one of Andrew's male friends knew to text him and ask if he could give out his number!) #2- Ladies, ladies, ladies . . . I see through your "I'm Bertha's best friend. I wanted to ask you a question." #3- No. Ain't no mother got time for this nonsense.
As I was hiding the devices, I showed Doug the texts. Then I stewed on this situation. Should I notify Bertha's mother, that I do NOT appreciate her daughter giving Andrew's number out to unknown young ladies?!!! Maybe that's a little intense. I will just delete those texts before Andrew has a chance to be involved in this nonsense. I mean, we all know why the best friend is texting. She's going to "subtly" see if Andrew likes Bertha. Nope. Ain't happening here. Talk to the hand, sister!
Then the light shown down on me, and I saw the light . . . I was interfering. I was the mother I pompously thought, I would never need to be. Well- my situation is different, because these girls clearly are up to no good. Andrew needs his mother to protect him from this . . . until he's 25, no . . . at least 30.
Moral of the story ... I deleted the texts. I am suspicious and uncertain of this hooligan girl, and I will be giving her the slanty-eyed, "I see you, I know what you are up to" Look. Every single time I see her, from this point forward.
I feel bad. Not because I deleted the messages, but because I didn't trust him enough to avoid their foolishness (he would have . . . I think). I feel bad that Andrew may have had to deal with silly girl drama, when I don't think he would have wanted to- although- I don't actually know, maybe he likes Bertha (she meets all of my criteria; except she's a little forward! Why can't she just like him on the side lines and giggle when he comes by?! That's what I did, and it all worked fine for me.) I should have talked to Andrew about it. I should have let it play out. No one in the club said when they interfere, they feel bad. They conveniently left that part out. Boo! Now I don't want to be a part of this club. Except . . . I feel sure I will again at some point in the future. Hopefully not the near future though. Hopefully when he's 30. :-)
I had an abrupt and shocking realization today.
I won't lie, when friends with older children have talked about interfering in their children's social lives, I have pompously thought, "I won't do that!" Well- when the situation presented itself, I did interfere. I was cold and calculating, too. And I will continue to do so. I drank the Kool-Aid, I joined the club, and I am an official, card-carrying, "Interfering Mom."
This morning, I was gathering up the kids technology to put up until this evening. (If I don't put it out of sight, they sneak on it ALL DAY!). As I grabbed Andrew's phone, his home screen lit up, and I saw SEVERAL texts. One was from me, asking if he had his phone, so he could tell his Dad to answer the doggone phone! The other . . . 6? 7? were from 2 girls. One I knew of; we'll call her Bertha. The other was from Bertha's friend . . . her friend (cue my slanty, suspicious eyes). Her friend, my son doesn't know-" since she introduced herself as "Martha, Bertha's best friend. My son who clearly needs to be saved from these harlots.
I was immediately irritated. #1- why is Bertha- giving out Andrew's number?! (Uncool! Even one of Andrew's male friends knew to text him and ask if he could give out his number!) #2- Ladies, ladies, ladies . . . I see through your "I'm Bertha's best friend. I wanted to ask you a question." #3- No. Ain't no mother got time for this nonsense.
As I was hiding the devices, I showed Doug the texts. Then I stewed on this situation. Should I notify Bertha's mother, that I do NOT appreciate her daughter giving Andrew's number out to unknown young ladies?!!! Maybe that's a little intense. I will just delete those texts before Andrew has a chance to be involved in this nonsense. I mean, we all know why the best friend is texting. She's going to "subtly" see if Andrew likes Bertha. Nope. Ain't happening here. Talk to the hand, sister!
Then the light shown down on me, and I saw the light . . . I was interfering. I was the mother I pompously thought, I would never need to be. Well- my situation is different, because these girls clearly are up to no good. Andrew needs his mother to protect him from this . . . until he's 25, no . . . at least 30.
Moral of the story ... I deleted the texts. I am suspicious and uncertain of this hooligan girl, and I will be giving her the slanty-eyed, "I see you, I know what you are up to" Look. Every single time I see her, from this point forward.
I feel bad. Not because I deleted the messages, but because I didn't trust him enough to avoid their foolishness (he would have . . . I think). I feel bad that Andrew may have had to deal with silly girl drama, when I don't think he would have wanted to- although- I don't actually know, maybe he likes Bertha (she meets all of my criteria; except she's a little forward! Why can't she just like him on the side lines and giggle when he comes by?! That's what I did, and it all worked fine for me.) I should have talked to Andrew about it. I should have let it play out. No one in the club said when they interfere, they feel bad. They conveniently left that part out. Boo! Now I don't want to be a part of this club. Except . . . I feel sure I will again at some point in the future. Hopefully not the near future though. Hopefully when he's 30. :-)
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