Who’s More Hormonal? Me or Him?

The deeper we get into the teenage years, the more I

tend to vent on here. Man. I hope they don’t ever run 
across my blogs. If I’m suffering through the “poor me
my life sucks so bad” pity parties NOW..then I’ll be 
catering “Pity-Palooza Suck Fest 2011” if they do read
them. 
I don’t want to be one of those moms who gripes and
whines constantly about her kids. I remember how my
mom seemed always against me when I was a teen. I
went out for cross-country and track just to extend my
school day so I wouldn’t have to fight with her all the 
time. But living in Egypt, we don’t have the same sport
opportunities as we did in Germany or the U.S. I know
my oldest son would love to get a place of his own. He
keeps bugging me to find a 4-bedroom place so he 
won’t have to share a room with his brothers. I told him
that he’ll have to get a job to pay the difference in rent.
I don’t want him to hate me. I do love him with all my 
heart. He is creative and artistic and sweet. But since
he turned 16, he’s combined the teenage angst, tween
“put upon thing” and the 2 yr old tantrums that he skipped
and they’re all coming out on my head full swing. I know
he hates me. He’s 16. That’s a given. But he is so loud
and mean about it sometimes. And he has his brothers
spending the night on the couch in the living room to stay
away from him.
It’s just a phase. I keep telling myself this. I don’t know
that I’m listening to me, though. I cried myself to sleep 
last night. And all four of the younger kids came into my
room to hug me and ask me not to cry. But not the one
that I was crying over. He’ll outgrow it,God willing. And
maybe we’ll be friends again. And maybe I’ll go back to 
crying over championship sporting events and sappy 
Kleenex commercials again. And I won’t feel like such
a failure as a mother again.
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