If I could only use one word to describe what having a teenager - or at least having our teenager - feels like, I'd say "insane." I feel insane.
One moment I'm ready to ship him off to a third world country (don't you wish you could do that?), then the next I'm sympathizing with the beating your self-esteem takes during the teenage years, then a second later, I'm ready to cut him out of the will.
If that doesn't seem crazy enough, I found myself doing the unthinkable yesterday: I called his birth mother (his negligent, abusive and thankfully mostly now absent mother) and thanked her. Because when he ran to her (and his maternal grandmother) a few days ago looking for someone to help him get around our rules and our boundaries, she sent him back home. And regardless of her motivations or her complete failure as a parent otherwise, it was the right thing to do. In fact, it might just be the one and only positive contribution she has made to his life. (I refrained from mentioning that.)
It's not that I actually think she has had some kind of epiphany about her limitations...no, I consider it to be more like strategic diplomacy. And no matter what form it takes, I'd rather have her working for us than against us.
If only the teenager knew the way his chaos has brought us all together...he'd totally hate that.
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