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Thursday, January 10, 2008

PMS rears it's ugly head..all over my hubby!

Last night the hubby came to bed and wanted to talk about our son. He is 18 and ummmmmmm how shall I say this...well he is pulling away a little and deciding that his father's ideas and his ideas are not one and the same. There, nicely said. Now this is totally normal, I know, but still a pain when you are the mom and you have to listen to both of them gripe about the other.
Well this particular argument stems from a ski trip and his girlfriends 18th birthday. Our church youth group is going on a ski trip. It will cost us $125 for just him to go. Then we have to buy a couple of other things like goggles...long johns...gloves. You know..things to keep him warm. We also have to give him spending money so that when they are away from the lodge he can eat. Now my hubby feels that since he is 18 he should pay for some of this. Well his girlfriend is also turning 18 this weekend and he needs money (that he does not have) to get her something special. The only jobs that teens can do here are bagging at our grocery store on base or baby sitting. They sign up to bag on Monday and find out Friday if they are picked. They can only bag on Saturdays and Sundays. Most of the kids run up to the office on Monday to sign up. Not"OUR" kid. It's like pulling teeth. The hubby wanted him to sign up to bag both days. The Son wants to only bag on Sunday. The hubby wants him to step up and start making things happen. The Son wants his father to take a step back but keep the wallet open.
Here is where I step in...I am laying in bed, minding my own business perusing the blog world when the hubby comes in and wants to talk about that son of "mine". I do not want to talk about that son of "mine". I want to read blogs and dread getting up the next morning at 5 to workout. He persists. I tell him we should be happy that he is signing up to bag at all and that it's normal for a kid his age to disagree with everything one minute and then need us the next and that it's also normal for him to want to spend all day of her 18th birthday waiting by the phone for her to call and tell him she is ready. He thinks The Son should work til 7 and then take her out with money he has earned and that he is done talking to me and he is going to sleep now goodnight. Ummmmmmmmmm no. He must have missed the memo about my PMS. I was mad now. Good and mad. I decided I was still mad about things he did or didn't do when we were 16 and he needed to hear about them. He started laughing when I informed him that "my intense dislike for him at that moment was threatening to bubble over like lava all over his face!!!" I took umbrage over the laughter. We went to sleep soon after that. He tried to put his foot next to mine like he usually does and I told him to put his foot up his bottom. More laughter from him and then he fell into a deep sleep while I prayed to the heavens above that I would snore like a truck driver and keep him awake!!
This morning we woke up and laughed and laughed and laughed. We love each other again and I know that as he is driving to work this morning he is thanking his lucky stars to have met someone who keeps things interesting.
heeheehee crazy PMS!
dawn

3 comments:

JudyL said...

Do you *really* think that's what he's thinking? :)

I had to laugh because the exact same thing happens here. DS is now 20 and is going to school but just hasn't had time to look for a job . . for 5 months! Good luck with it all!

BitnByAQuiltingBug said...

Ok...I'll not be just a lurker, left out here in blogland to giggle all alone. You are one funny woman. I don't recall how I found your site, although I do quilt some and do read quilt blogs. I especially loved the letter to God regarding Eve's screw up that we all get to pay for til the end of time. Thanks for the giggles....
Regina

Shelina said...

I can so relate - my daughter also wants things - say a trip to Japan, without having to work for it.

Your hubby is a saint for dealing with PMS so well. If I was you, I think it would have taken longer than one night to let it go.