This post will probably get me grounded, as I’m not entirely sure that my first amendment rights apply in my household. But I’m willing to suffer for my art. And to make my point.
I’m seventeen years old.
That simple fact means I fuck up. A lot.
It also means that I don’t like to admit my wrongdoing.
Especially to people over the age of 47. Even moreso when those people happen to be my parents.
But surprising as it may seem, after the 4th or 5th, and sometimes 6th time of being told things, they register. And the 4th or 5th time after that registering, change my sometimes occur. Not in huge quantities, but small ones. I.E., I didn’t put certain khakis in the dryer today, preventing them from drying. And believe you me, I have reduced many a pair of khakis to oompa-loompa size. So c’mon parents, we’re actually listen on occasion. Even if we are glaring at you like we despise you more than AP exams.
Now with that said, (and if you are my parents and read the above, please don’t mention it, ever, seriously. because I’d like to think you believe me and if you don’t, I’d rather not know) Now, while my parents are two pretty darn intelligent people, I sometimes wonder if a combined 10 years of having your children always accept that you were correct might potentially blind a parent. For example, I walked into a bedroom that wasn’t mine this morning to check for laundry, and it was deliciously cool. I couldn’t figure out why, because I could hear the air conditoner wasn’t on, but I found my answer when I looked up and saw the ceiling fan in action. I didn’t really think anything of it. Until I was berated that evening for having the ceiling fan on in my room. When I went back into the other room about an hour ago, I noticed the fan was off.
Now with that story down, I’m just using it as a single example. For all parents, I assume that hypocrisy, well I dont want to say hypocrisy, it seems to harsh a word, but I can’t think of a more appropriate word. While the majority of parents have their children’s best interests at heart while trying to raise them, there seems to be an undertone of “Do as I say, not as I do.” A girl I worked with shared a story about a friend of her’s whose parents got a little to friendly with marijuana at a party. And these are respectable people.
How do you strike a balance between accepting that your child may notice more and still maintaning your authority. There are the types of parents that would like to be friends with their children, but on the other side of that there are types of parents that would rather rule a very totalitarian household. Fortunately mine are neither. But they most certainly don’t reside in the center.
I have discerned that at the age of seventeen, one month before the commencement of higher education, that it is diffucult for the child to accept any control while it is difficult for the parent to relinquish any.
How do you strike a balance?
