Since When Do You Call Me Shauna?

Over the years I’ve learned some things from my teenagers. Besides being extremely annoying and narcissistic, they’re also acutely aware of how things “make them feel.”

Major eye roll.

I’m not sure if this holds true with teenage boys–I have the distinct pleasure of having teenage daughters. By the time my 4th child (and only boy) is a teenager I’m sure things will be completely different for him. For one, I will be so old and beat down from dealing with girls that his life will probably read like something out of an article in Maxim magazine. I’ll encourage him to be a UFC fighter, buy him a motorcycle, and hand him the keys to the liquor cabinet. Because really? Will I even fucking care at that point?

I’m thinking that if I’m not in a padded room eating styrofoam dinosaur shapes and talking to my imaginary half man/half unicorn friend Zenith, my life will be considered a win.

I said IF.

Some days I’m not so sure I will make it. Because I’ve already started talking to myself. And I swat at bugs that aren’t there. And some days I even have the urge to bite my own shoulder. Is this normal?

Teenage girls keep you on your toes. Their mood can change so quickly that if you’re not ready for the extreme shift from happy to psychotic you can get whiplash. Might I even suggest you keep a neck brace under the bathroom cabinet just in case. Or just wear it all the time. That’s what I’ve started doing. Plus it makes them crazy. “OH MY GOD MOM, you’re not going to wear that neck brace to my track meet ARE YOU?”

Why yes, I think I will.

Lately, I’ve experienced what I like to call the I’m Afraid To Go To Sleep For Fear Of Being Stabbed In The Throat syndrome. That’s not the official medical term for the disease but if you Google it, you will find that I’m Afraid To Go To Sleep For Fear Of Being Stabbed In The Throat (or IATGTSFFOBSITT as it’s more commonly known) is also Webster’s definition of the word TEENAGER. Coincidence? I think not.

Here is just one example of what my life is like with THEM.

“Mom, I need to go get makeup.”

“Fine. We’ll go to Walgreens after school.”

“WALGREENS? I need GOOD makeup.”

“Do you have any money to buy *good* makeup?”

“WHAT? You’re not going to pay for it?”

“Um. No.”

“GAAAAAH. But you’re the MOM. You’re supposed to pay for my stuff.”

“How old are you again?”

“Sixteen.”

“You should really get a job.”

Head spins completely around.

“I don’t have time to get a job.”

“Because you’re so busy texting your friends?”

“Whatever, Shauna.”

“Since when do you call me Shauna?”

“God, Mom. You’re so annoying.”

“Yes. But I have good makeup and you don’t.”

“I hate my life.”

“Yeah? Well, join the club.”

“I want a different family.”

“Can I help you pack your bag?”

Makes a loud moaning sound and then slams bedroom door.

I swat at the fly buzzing around me and then walk to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine for me and my friend, Zenith. He’s the only one who really understands me.