Personal space; I need it, want it, and am currently not getting enough of it. I can tolerate a certain amount of the in and out of bed nonsense because I understand that kids are strange, needy little space invaders, but there is a limit to what I can stomach before I lose my patience. The only time I am truly relaxed is in the evenings when the kids are tucked in, the husband is sexed up and the mutts are bagging zzzzz’s . I’ve taken care of everyone else and have earned some “Me” time.
I do realize that resistance to this idea is inevitable because let’s face it, I’m sort of a big deal around here. It’s a pretty rad feeling to be needed, but I have needs too. Therefore I’ve begun to lay the smack down and draw some pretty firm lines as to just how much or many interruptions and personal space violations I will endure during said “Me” time.
So last week, the boy wanders into my bedroom for the 3rd time and snuggles up next to me. I pause my beloved DVR’d episode of Grey’s Anatomy and gave him the stink eye. Earlier in the evening, we snugged and talked and I’ve tucked him in no less than 3 times at this point. He’s 11 and it’s after 11 PM. I wanted to quote the wise and witty author Adam Mansbach and say, “Go the fuck to sleep,” but instead I went with, “What’s up, Buddy?”
Boy- Mom, if you could change anything in your life, what would it be?
Usually I am easily sucked in to any attempt to wax philosophical with this kid, but I have a date with McSteamy, and I’ve already let him suck some of the joy out of my "Me" time. He’s not bleeding or burning with fever, so I answer him
Me - I’d change the fact that you are invading my personal space
and trying to bogart my “Me” time.
Boy- No, I’m serious.
Me- So am I.
Boy- I’m not trying to be funny, Mom, I’m serious. What would you change?
Me- I’m not trying to be funny either. Go away.
Boy- I’m not tired.
Me - I don’t care
Boy- I’m serious.
Me- So am I. Go Away.
Boy- What’s your problem?
Me- YOU. I already told you that.
And he’s gone, which is good because I’ve paused McSteamy in an awkward sort of place where he doesn’t look very sexy and I need my McSteamy-licious mom porn during my "Me" time when I’m enjoying my personal space.
My kids are used to my sense of humor and they know that I love them, so I have no problem demanding that they respect my personal space and need for down time. Some people might argue that my interaction with my son was completely inappropriate and that my job as a parent is to be at my kids beckon call 24/7. I think those people are wrong.
But the kid did get me thinking, I would change something. I’d get me a glass of wine to drink while enjoying my “Me” time, and I wouldn't change a thing about the way I’m teaching my kids about personal space. Not one fucking thing.
Filed under: Uncategorized