Mornings can be a real challenge for any parent, but when you add teenagers into the mix, it escalates to a whole new level of chaos. Imagine the exasperation of Tom Hanks in Castaway, but instead of battling the elements, you’re grappling with two teenagers who seem to have emerged from a sleep-induced fog that rivals a grizzly bear waking up from hibernation.
If you’re one of those morning enthusiasts who somehow has kids resembling the Cleaver family, I commend you. However, I can’t help but feel a pang of envy mixed with resentment towards your idyllic morning routine. My mornings are far from serene; they are more like tumultuous storms, leaving me questioning my life choices.
Each day begins with me dragging myself out of bed, still groggy, and knocking on two bedroom doors. With all the optimism of a sunrise, I greet the two beings I once cherished as my adorable little children. But alas, they have transformed into teenagers—furious and formidable creatures, perfect for a horror movie.
Waking them is akin to trying to rouse a bear. You’ll be met with grunts, groans, and on tougher days, tears—especially from my teenage daughter, who is a true testament to the complexities of adolescence. Despite my efforts, I am met with the same disappointing responses, unless it’s the weekend.
Once I manage to free them from their slumber, I escape to my room for a shower. But here comes the familiar battle for bathroom territory, which inevitably involves my daughter. As I stand under the dwindling water flow, she decides that her hair requires yet another wash, completely disregarding the fact that I am the one who brought her into this world.
Emerging from the shower, I’m greeted by the sight of water puddles left in her wake and the door wide open—just the kind of exposure that sends shivers down my spine. At this point, coffee becomes my lifeline; without it, I might just lose my mind.
I shuffle downstairs, wrapped in a towel and robe, ready to brew my much-needed caffeine fix. Meanwhile, the sound of my daughter singing Taylor Swift reaches my ears while my son yells for her to turn it down. I attempt to drown out the noise, humming along to the tune of morning coffee bliss, but it’s futile.
As I make my way back to my room, I’m bombarded with the first of many “Mom!” calls that will echo through the next hour. My son, the elder sibling, wanders around in a daze, as if each night erases his memory of the previous day—honestly, I have no idea where his toothbrush is, and I’m willing to bet it’s where he left it last time.
Turning on my hair dryer becomes the only way to dim the chaos, but soon enough, my daughter demands my help with her hair. It’s like attempting to tame Medusa—do not make eye contact! After an arduous session of braiding, I endure the wrath of a dramatic teenager who decides my efforts have rendered her ugly. Great, just what I needed.
With only minutes before we need to leave, I stand there in my robe, incredulous at the emotional rollercoaster I’ve just been on. My children, now fully dressed and ready, head downstairs to prepare their lunches, leaving me frazzled with cold coffee and a desire to escape.
The next few moments are a rare oasis of calm—two teenagers in the kitchen can be remarkably peaceful. I hastily apply makeup, aware the silence won’t last long. Just as I think I’ve won a moment of victory, I’m inundated with forms needing signatures, lost jackets, and shoes that somehow were left behind at school. Honestly, how do you come home without shoes?
Every morning is a battle in our household, yet I wouldn’t trade it for anything. We’ve attempted to be more organized and I’m working on my patience, but we always fall back into the same morning frenzy. Regardless of the chaos, I look forward to coming home to my two most beloved humans after a long day at work.
Walking through that door? That’s a whole different tale.
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Summary
Parenting teenagers in the morning is a chaotic adventure filled with emotional highs and lows, battles for bathroom time, and the relentless pursuit of peace amidst the storm. No matter the craziness, the love for your children remains unshakeable.