Presenting: Why My Children Will (Probably) Hate Me

   I grew up in an extremely strict household compared to most of my friends.

Want to have a sleepover? Plan four days in advance.
Want to go to a movie with friends? Gosh dang better be the matinee!
Want to drive around with friends? Too bad.
Want a boyfriend? Funny.

   That was my adolescence in a nutshell. (My mom’s probably reading this and rolling her eyes). Sure the ‘rents might see it differently but that doesn’t matter, right? Right.

   After spending years mourning over my tragic preteen existence, I decided I was going to be the coolest parent ever when it came my time. I’d never go into my kids’ rooms, always have goodies in the house, not set a curfew, let them date, let them pick out all their clothing from Abercrombie&Fitch, never ask what they’re doing, etc. You know, basically the opposite of everything my parents actually did.

   I resolved I was going to be nothing like my parents. I decided I was going to be awesome.

   Well now I’m old and I changed my mind.

Presenting: Why My Children Will (*Probably) Hate Me *Maybe I’ll have nerd children and they’ll actually enjoy my rules. This you never know.

1. What in the Sam’s Hell are you wearing.

   I have this extremely vivid memory of being told to change my shirt before school by my dad. So weird. I had recently returned from a shopping trip with my grandma where she bought me this really cute teal sweater from Abercrombie&Fitch (on sale, mind you). I absolutely LOVED IT. It was disgustingly tight and nearly see through – what more could you want as a fourteen year old girl? I’m sure my grandma intended on me wearing a modest tank underneath because it was fairly revealing, but of course I had a different plan. I wore my skimpiest white tank top with little sequins underneath the sweater instead. It was fun pretending to be a corner girl while it lasted. I walked down the stairs, saw my dad, got the lecture, went back upstairs, changed, hated my life. Looking back, I can completely understand my dad’s reaction. A 5’7” 95lb 14 year old girl with no curves to her name wearing a shirt meant for an adult filmstar? Not pretty. He was definitely looking out for my best interest.

   What did I learn from this? Well immediately following the incident, I made a deal with myself that my daughters would never be confined to looking “respectful” – how boring! But now I have changed my mind. It makes me cringe when I see little girls running around in Daisy Dukes and spaghetti strap tank tops. Why don’t you just skip around in your panties and training bra? You’re basically showing it all already, anyway. My daughters will wear t shirts and capris even on the hottest day of the history of the world. No one needs to see the complete contour of their baby bodies! Yucky. What are you attempting to “show off” anyway?

2. 5738 texts in one month?! How is that humanly possible?!

   We’re starting off with an (almost) exact quote from my dad upon receiving the first phone bill after gifting me a phone with a texting plan. My response was something along the lines of, “that’s not even that much! Some kids text, like, every minute.” Leave it to my math-genius father to calculate how often I would have had to send a text in order to accumulate over 5000 in a month. It was pretty disturbing. The only reason I was able to convince my parents to get me a phone was because my sister and I recently picked up jazz dancing (short-lived) which required us to stay afterschool. The class ended at different times so my parents never knew when to be there to pick us up. Enter My First Phone! It was Roxy® themed and instantly became my Siamese twin (because it was always attached to me, get it?). Texting was my forte and I quickly became the Family Freak due to my overly-muscular thumbs. Did having a phone benefit me? Not really. Did it help me make friends? No. Did it distract me in every aspect of life? Yes.

   Will I let my kids have cell phones at fourteen? Nope. Unless they pay for it.

   Is there anything more annoying than witnessing eight to fourteen year olds playing with cellphones? What are they doing? Trading stocks on the NASDAQ? No, they’re being immature and irritating tweens, that’s all. Nothing beneficial from this electronic device. The only reason I see it being acceptable is if you don’t own a house phone and your child isn’t with an adult most of the time. Other than that, go do a puzzle.

3. No, not until you’re 16.

   My mom was raised believing you shouldn’t allow your children to date until they’re 16. Doesn’t that seem young? I see 16 year olds now and think, “It’s fairly obvious your mom packed your lunch today. In that case, you probably shouldn’t be experimenting with the opposite gender until your independent enough to make your own PB&J.” But I can tell you right now that I thought I was so mature at that age. I was wise, seasoned, knowledgeable, and opinionated about every little thing. I knew I could handle having a boyfriend, piece of cake! Everyone else was out there trying it out. But not me. No dates, no hang outs, no co-ed dinner get-togethers, nada. Just me and my fam, livin’ it up. I hated every second of it and had a countdown until my 16^th birthday on my wall for years. Years! It was the utmost form of torture.

   Will my kids date before sixteen? You bet your bottom dollar they will not!

   Such a pointless activity. Let’s be honest here: what is on the minds of preteen boys? Ugly, ugly things. What’s on the mind of a preteen girl? Pretty clothes, puppies, and romantic comedies! But what’s the number one weakness of all insecure, maturing, awkward tween females? Peer pressure. So basically the guys win, girls lose, reputations suffer. Even though 16 is still pretty young, it’s two years away from technically being an adult. I deem it an ok age to date. And luckily, so does my fiancé. It’ll be interesting to be on the other side of the fence, inflicting instead of suffering. Mwaha.

   Needless to say, my kids will probably daydream about my nonexistence and tell me things like, “No one else has these rules!” and “It’s not fair!” I know that because that’s what I said. Over and over and over again. But, in all honesty, I couldn’t be happier about the way I’ve turned out. I have a sense of self-worth, I have goals and dreams, I have an amazing and loving relationship, and my family is still #1. So thanks Mom and Dad, I guess you weren’t so bad after all.