It'd be easier if he was stupid.

The Man-child is struggling right now. Seriously struggling. I know, I know I'm probably breaking some sort of blogger code right now. One where I'm supposed to hint at having some terrible problem but never actually saying what that problem is... Back of the hand to the forehead, declaring woe is me, exasperating my readers to no end, making you wonder.

Is it the kids, I bet it's the kids. Or work, maybe it's work. 

But nope, I'm going to be all wild and crazy and flat out tell you...it's the Man-child. He's struggling. He's struggling big time with just that...becoming a man. Still living in my house and following the rules. But having all these feelings of independence and burgeoning yearnings without any idea of where to channel it. Worse- channeling it in ways that make me want to simultaneously hug him and tazer him.

...and you know what? It's stressing me THE HELL OUT. Sorry, sorry. I know. I'll rein it in. Nothing, and I mean nothing makes you question your effectiveness at being a parent than going through a time such as this. It's gotten to the point I can hardly watch Parenthood anymore because I can't stand to watch what Sara is going through. I'm muttering to the TV. At least your kid has gotten a job. At least she's gotten herself a home. At least she's standing on her own two feet. 

Was I too hard on him? Not hard enough. Too pushy, not pushy enough? Am I being too pushy, not pushy enough? Will he one day snap out of it and become a decent human being? Will one day I look back on this time and laugh?


I think this is why I was given two kids- one to remind me I'm not the worst parent in the world.

It'd be easier if he was stupid.