I know, I know, who hates Saturday, right? I mean how many songs are there about the weekend? It’s supposed to be something to look forward to, and it is. Really. But there is one thing I dread about Saturday:
Wait! Don’t go! I love my kids. I really do. They are the joy of my life. My reason for getting up each morning. But is anyone else out there tired of the fight that begins each Saturday when you try to get your kids to do anything productive?
My 8-year-old daughter is currently screaming in her room because I asked her to put some of her laundry away. There are like 3 pairs of pants, a couple shorts, about 5 shirts, and 1 dress. But by her reaction you would think I asked her to choose which of her dolls I can throw into an open flame!
My 14-year-old daughter is sobbing because I asked her to vacuum the front room. When I say sobbing, I mean hiccuping uncontrollably, can’t breath, red in the face sobbing. Again, it’s as if I asked her to shoot her dog.
My 10-year-old son is stoically crying as he dusts the coffee table.
My 12-year-old isn’t crying though. She’s at her friend’s house.
The thing that drives me the craziest is that we do this every Saturday. It would only take 1 hour max! But each and every week they are surprised that I would ask them to help me and their mom to clean. How?! How is this surprising?! And without fail, at least one (if not all) of them ends up telling me how much they hate me.
It takes everything I’ve got not to lose it, but this morning I remembered something I heard from my own parents a few years ago:
“You know you’re doing your job right when they hate you every now and then.” I guess it’s true. If I didn’t make them clean, or make them study, or make them eat their veggies, I wouldn’t really be doing my job as a parent. I’m not their friend. I’m their dad. Don’t misunderstand me, I want to be their friend…well at least I won’t to have a friendly relationship with them, but that’s not my job. Besides, who am I kidding? If given the option, what parent honestly thinks their kids would chose to hang out with them instead of their teenage peers.
So, it may not solve the immediate outpouring of hormone-induced hatred, but at least it makes me feel better as a parent! And this morning if what my dad said is true, I’m up for father of the year!