Adult Situations…with Adult Kids.

First of all, I Love the Shix out of my kids. Love’em. I probably spoiled them out of some Gen X guilt complex but only because I love them.

me and jabaris

Now, with that said…is this the crap my parents had to deal with from me? Entitlement. Misdirected Anger. Drastic Mood Swings. One minute the “I’m Adult” Speech and in the very next breath, “Mom, You’re Not Doing Enough For Me” BS. Who am I kidding? Yes! Yes, I was a Spoiled American Brat well into my “adulthood”. This is the Reaping of that which I Sowed.

shrug

I am a professional. I am an Educator with three certifications…and I basically don’t make enough money to buy a home in Florida.  At least, I thought I didn’t; however, I guess I can. Since my adult son and I had a heated “discussion” about our living situation, I looked up programs to help teachers buy houses. So, I guess I could thank him for spurring this new course of action…but he’s in his feelings. Mr. Adult told me by next summer he’s moving out. I feel a little bad but…it had to happen one day, right?

earl-nightingale-quote

Back to the subject at hand, The Reaping. I now see that having adult kids is not as easy as one would think. I keep replaying conversations I had with my parents when I was their ‘adult’ kid in the house with a lot of opinions. How did they put up with me? Lots of Jesus Love and prayer. A couple of Long Island Ice Teas, maybe?

namascray

Did my parents ever just look at me and go, “What the Heck have I created? This kid talks more *&%Y^& than ever. When will this brat Grow up?” They waited a long time…probably still waiting. I’m like their eighteen year old daughter who is really forty something and kinda still needs financial help, sometimes.

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But this comeuppance can be a bit frustrating. I know that what comes around goes around and this is what I am SO SURE I did to my parents. Heck! I was probably ten times worse, with me being a highly volatile, perpetually depressed, self destructive Cancer chick. I look back on myself and think, Damn! I was a hot mess. Heck…my kids are a walk in the park compared to me.

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Ok. So, I can dig it. Deep Breath. Center My Thoughts on Happiness. Stretch.

It’s time to go talk to my kid. If he is ready.

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