Paybacks Are Hell

Being a parent is not for the faint at heart. It also isn’t easy for an old fart like me.

I sure did think I was smart by waiting until I was 34 to have Lindsay; and for a lot of reasons it was a good decision. On the flip side of that good decision is the cold, hard reality that it is hard for this 42-year-old mom to keep up with an almost 8 year old, and it’s impossible to outsmart her.

And I realize I could have it a lot worse; Lindsay is a sweet and smart little girl and not the little monster that I see some moms trying to handle and raise. Her only character flaw, as I see it, is that she is a Mini-Me. And I know that most of you reading this right now do not need an explanation of what that means, but for those of you who do not know me as well this means that she loves to argue, she is always right, and she is a consummate smartass.

Do I deserve everything she is dishing out to me? Absolutely. No doubt about it. Not even I can argue that one. As my mom loves to remind me, I’m payin’ for my raisin’. I owe my mom and dad so many apologies. I now realize that I am lucky to be alive because I know I pushed them to the edge too many times to count. And I also know that Lindsay, too, will push me to the edge in the future, and when she does I’ll remember mom’s other favorite saying: Don’t worry, Sandra, the next stage will be worse.

Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad. I love you.