A couple of weeks ago, my kids and I were at a party, and I ran into an old friend. She had her baby and toddlers in tow. As we greeted each other, I recognized the weary look in on her face. The look that revealed her long day of childcare—the constant feeding and diaper changing, the non-stop monitoring and discipline, the meltdowns, the challenge of being absolutely everything to multiple little beings.
My friend saw my kids in the other room sweetly playing together, and she wistfully said, “So that is what I have to look forward to.”
I happily (but not too gleefully—I didn’t want to make her jealous, just hopeful) admitted that I am indeed in the “sweet spot” of parenting. My kids are eleven and eight and are turning into happy, self-sufficient little people. They can pour their own milk and wipe their own butts. They can take showers by themselves and remove snot from their own noses. They don’t need me to entertain them constantly, and they can even prepare simple meals for themselves. THEY CAN PUT THEIR OWN GLOVES ON. (I’ll let that one sit for a moment. Try not to hate me too much.)
And the best part of the sweet spot? They still like to hang out with me and my husband. It’s really amazing. And wonderful. I know this phase won’t last forever so I am trying to soak it in as much as I can.
But don’t get me wrong. It’s not all Kumbaya campfire songs and s’mores over here. We still have our issues. There are still plenty of things that make me want to sneak a glass of wine by mid-afternoon (sometimes mid-morning). In no particular order, here are 5 of the sour patches in the sweet spot of parenting:
- Homework horror. There are so many things to hate about homework. Whether it’s the whining or the teeth pulling to get the homework done. Or the projects that somehow become mine instead of theirs. Or the fact that I just don’t understand how they’re teaching math nowadays so can’t explain how to get any of the answers anymore. (“The answer is B. I can’t tell you how I got it. It just is.”) Homework time sucks. It’s the absolute least favorite part of my day. (Cue wine swig.)
- Ridiculous eating habits. I’ve got some damn picky eaters. Between my daughter’s sensory issues and my children’s new-found vegetarianism—finding an enjoyable meal for everyone is a constant challenge. They whine and complain at dinner time every night. Every. Damn. Night. Honestly, I’m tired and have given up finding creative ways to force encourage them to eat. My latest strategy: “You don’t like this? Go make yourself peanut-butter toast.” (We go through a lot of peanut butter.)
- Constant chaos in their rooms. It doesn’t matter how many labeled bins or drawers I put in their rooms. It doesn’t matter how often I help them organize their crap. (Or how much Febreeze I use.) Their rooms constantly look and smell like post-tornado destruction. I don’t understand how they function in those rooms. Once a week I make them pick the crap off of the floor so I can at least vacuum. But all of their stuff just gets shoved in the closet or under their beds—mountains of soon-to-be-donated-while-they’re-at-school crap.
- Endless electronic battles. After the homework and chores are done, the kids have an hour or so of free time in the afternoon. They’ll usually play on the computer, the TV, or what-not. (They also read and draw and play with their toys so don’t freak out on me.) On the weekends, however, it gets trickier to enforce. First of all, they’ve figured out that if they let us sleep in they can have completely unsupervised screen time (win-win?). And more and more of their homework needs to be done on the computer so it’s very easy for them to slip in game time or snacking on YouTube videos. I can’t tell you how many “I need to FaceTime so-and-so to check on homework” episodes have turned into video chatting dance parties. I find myself screaming, “Play with your toys!” and “You will go outside, and you will have fun! (Dammit.)”
- Hellacious preteen hormones. OH. HOLY. SHIT. The sweet spot of parenting lasts only a short amount of time. We can already see the ugly hormones raging in my daughter’s body. Intermittent hysteria. Crying fits over clothing options. Full-on meltdowns when trying to help her with homework. They’re all making their regular monthly appearances. (Conveniently timed with my own period—damn you, lunar cycles!) We’re going to lose our sweet little girl soon. So I drink some wine and let her cry it out in her room until she’s ready to talk again.
I’m sure the fact that at least one of these five things happens on a daily basis has nothing to do with the amount of wine we consume every week.
But I had better enjoy this sweet spot. After all, the teenage years are coming…
32 Responses
The sweet spot returns eventually … my oldest is 19 and living away at college. We argue a lot less and enjoy each other a lot more when she is home. And in turn she isn’t there to stir the pot with my 16 yo daughter which means she and I get along much better as well. By no means am I ready to be a grandmother … but when it happens and they fight, I can’t wait to pass them back to their mother and tell them to enjoy.
I’m hoping I still have some more time left in this sweet spot. But it’s nice to know there’s another one!
LOVE this!!! So TRUE!! My house is just like yours! My kids are 15, almost 14, almost 11 ( boy, boy, and Queen! girl) I have been waiting for the sweet spot to return to my house for years. I hear it’s coming! Thank you for your blog it truely made my day. It’s nice to other families share because my hubby and I always wonder what the heck is the matter with our kids.
Thank YOU for reading! I hope your sweet spot returns soon too! And, yes, we’re all in the same boat. Some of us are more willing to talk about it, I think.
Oh. The screen time vs. sleeping in debate. I give in to sleeping in EVERY TIME, because I am the worst parent ever. By the time I get up at 9:30, my son’s eyes are bleeding from 3 straight hours of FIFA 2013.
I rationalize that I’m a much better parent after a good night’s sleep.
Ahhh…the teen years. Three of our kids are adults now (and don’t think all the shit ends just because they’re grown..it doesn’t) and one teen. He’s the easiest teen..but still..he has his moments.
Good thing? When I need something at the store he can go get it. Except for booze. I have a few years before I can send him on booze runs.
Thanks, Michelle. You just shot it all to hell for me. 😉 *dreams of booze runs*
The homework is what kills me. I can’t do math the way kids are supposed to do it these days (damn. How old am I?) and phonics is a mystery. I make it up as I go along and hope for the best.
And good luck with those hormones 😉
Yeah, I think the homework one is the worst. Of course, I might not say the same thing after the next hormonal meltdown…
We are in the sweet spot but with our 13-year-old girl showing ‘the signs’, I know it is not for long. Love that we can latch-key them in a pinch but hate the floor in our son’s room. I have told him that I will refuse to come in to say goodnight, read a book, check for mice unless he picks the shit* up off his floor. I may or may not have used the word shit, but he’s 11, so he’s heard it.
My son’s room isn’t as bad as my daughter’s, but he’s only 8. I am NOT looking forward to the stinkier, messier years to come with that one!
I have twelve, nine, nine, and eight, so I’ve got four sweet spots going right now. One nine year old will even make quesadillas for ALL of his siblings! Dinner’s ready!
However, I am with you on EVERY SINGLE ONE of these things. The homework, the video game BS, the post-apocalyptic bedroom landscapes. And even though twelve is a boy, I still see the hormone crap headed our way. He’s dying for more independence, but I always tell him, you’ll earn it as you get older; for now please stop acting like a four year old because I won’t treat you like a sixteen year old because you’re a twelve year old!
Wait. One of your kids will make dinner for all of his siblings?! I’m doing something wrong.
RARELY (I have to ask REALLY nicely). Mostly he makes himself a quesadilla and if anyone asks him to make them one he says, “MAKE YOUR OWN, BUTT NUGGET.”
Is there anything more touching than brotherly love? I think not.
Oh the dinnertime struggles. I hear ya sister. If my kids had it their way, every night would be Taco Tuesday.
It would be “ordered pizza” in my house!
Pizza night. Or rice night. Or pasta night. Or peanut butter toast night. Or breakfast for dinner night.
And then we’re back to pizza.
I am SOOOOO with you on this. I would add running to activities. The ages they are at (5 kids 6-12) make going places and social gatherings much easier that when they were small, but all this crap above takes the place of constant care. i actually miss the days when all I had to do is keep 5 kids under 6 alive! Those days are no more!
Yeah, I don’t know how I forgot about that one. Running the kids around to all of their activities is EXHAUSTING.
You never know. My teen is 19 now and never gave us a minute of trouble. My 11 year old hits every one of those sour notes. I think that homework is the worst, though. I pull my hair out over homework on a daily basis.
You’re giving me hope, Cassandra. You’re giving me hope…
I just am surprised you’re wearing gloves in the Bay Area. Do they bike to school? Biking to school in the winter was the only time in my life I wore gloves.
ACP, you must not know how cold it gets here. It was 45 out the other morning. That’s downright FREEZING. 😉
Silly me…I had another baby just as I was gliding into the sweet spot. I’ll have a teenager or two in the house by the time I hit the next one.
Yes, silly you… 😉
This is terrifying.
Be afraid, Harmony. Be very afraid…
Last night my 17yr old son and his friend came over to deliver a couch and recliner to my house. They stayed and talked for three hours! Ate all my left overs too! 🙂 He loves with his dad since the divorce do these are far and few between moments. It gets sweeter but I am going to have a breakdown when he hits 18.
I promise to cherish all of the moments. Even when I’m cursing them. xoxo
Man, reading this list makes me realize I was such a perfect child…not. 😛
Oh, I was definitely a perfect child. I had no hormonal meltdowns that resulted in me screaming at the top of my lungs and slamming doors and throwing stuff around the room and… Nope. Never happened.