Well, Since You Asked

By SaveYourSelf.biz

Back in my day (a phrase that makes my son roll his eyes), my parents would have never come to me and my siblings to ask how we felt about their parenting style. Although they are loving and supportive parents, they would not have given a #$%&. Parents were parents, children were children and there was a clear line between the two.

But because I am trying to parent slightly differently (read: rely on parenting blogs, something that would make my mother roll her eyes), I am often tinkering to make sure I have the best relationship with my son.

In recent years, I have celebrated Mother’s Day by asking my son, now a teen, how I can be a better mother. This is what he came up with this year:

Tell One Story At A Time, Please

Yes, this is a problem for me. Apparently, I start telling one story, veer off into another story, and then come back to the original story. A story within a story. I knew I had a problem. For years, I have been hearing this from friends. But now my son has picked up on it, and he points it out—usually mid-meandering story—when I do it.

You Don’t Know When to Shut Up

Yup, I talk. A lot. Sometimes, I’m lecturing him about homework or behavior. Sometimes, I am talking to myself, trying to work through a problem. I love to yak. But in this case, the apple did not fall far from the tree because my teen also loves to talk. At the dinner table, we are speaking over each other. My husband, the introvert, doesn’t stand a chance.  

Stop Using Slang Incorrectly

This requires some context: This all started with my use of the word “drip,” which I overheard my teen using, but apparently, I have been using incorrectly. My husband is a teacher, so he stays on top of what the kids are saying. Me? Urban Dictionary is my friend. But, in my defense, a two-minute conversation with my son can meander from Fortnite to drip to One Piece (in case you’re wondering, that’s a video game, a cool way to dress, and an Anime show). How can I be expected to keep up?

You Think You’re Funny—You’re Not

Here, I beg to differ. I asked my son if he knows the difference between a joke that might have gone over his head and one that’s truly not funny? He claims that my jokes are not funny. What he doesn’t understand is that I’m not telling jokes, I’m lobbing really good topical one-liners. I often joke that my son, with his Cliff Clavin know-it-all confidence, should drop tweets @loud&wrong. How is that not funny? Probably because he didn’t watch Cheers and has no idea who Cliff Clavin is. My husband laughs, so that’s all I really need.

My Impressions

As part of my funny girl routine, I also do a lot of impressions. Admittedly, I am awful at them, but that doesn’t stop me from trying. How else do you get better? And because we have been locked in at home for the better part of a year, my husband and son have heard a lot of awful impressions.

Stop Thinking ‘Our Hooman With Fur’ Can Do No Wrong

We have an Australian Cattle Dog/Blue Heeler. We have had her almost two years. Yup, we are those people who treat their pups like family, our “hooman with fur.” And, yes, I do go overboard with the sentiment. But when she and my son are running around the house playing, and it sounds like Tom and Jerry, while I’m working in the next room, I sometimes have to shout and ask them to quiet down. Then my son responds that our pup has gotten him into trouble—again. There also have been a few instances where I have called our son by our pup’s name. At least I haven’t accused my son of chewing any socks.

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