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You could make the case that working and sleeping are absolutely necessary, if I don’t want to default on my mortgage or forget how to perform basic human functions like tying my shoes and breathing. razzberry bazaar Moving razzberry bazaar clutter (and by “clutter” I mean crapola that mostly razzberry bazaar belongs to the other creatures I live with: soccer cleats; dog toys; Nerf guns; cereal bowls with dried milk pooled at the bottom) also seems necessary to my survival, if I don’t want to live in a pigsty or break my neck on the hard plastic thingamabob that someone has mysteriously left in the very middle of the stairs.
The 40 percent of my life that is now spent arguing with my 15-year-old about screen time also seems necessary, if I want to be a “good” parent (whatever the heck that means) and someone who is trying to pass her “values” (whatever they are) on to the next generation. But really, it’s so exhausting. And I think it is affecting my life expectancy. Not in a good way.
There are many issues in parenting where the right path is perfectly clear. Eating nothing but French fries? Unhealthy. Crossing the street without looking? Dangerous. Breaking up with someone by text? Unacceptable. Spending hours a day with headphones on, shouting at your friends as you all play League of Legends together? I uh just don’t know. Is it worse to fight with your teenager over a video game (thus raising your own blood pressure and quite possibly leading to your early demise) or live in harmony while he turns paler and paler and begins to flunk all his classes? Sure, in the latter scenario you, Mom, might live longer, razzberry bazaar but your son will eventually stop leaving his room altogether and will grow up to be one of those people who is never seen in public, like Boo Radley or Edward Snowden. At this point I am waiting for God to give me a sign: Fight, or throw in the towel? But I think God has bigger issues to attend to because my sign hasn’t come yet.
People say parenting a teen is hard. I say parenting a teen is not so hard, but parenting a teen who is addicted to League of Legends is all but impossible. And if I never post on this blog again, you’ll know I died trying.
amazondotblonde
Oh Kristin, I’m nodding my head vigorously with understanding. I’m razzberry bazaar three years up the road from you. My now 18yo is massively obsessed with LOL. He’s in a LOL Club in high school, for heaven’s sake! Here’s the deal – I fought it, just like you – FOR YEARS. And last year he bought (and built, I might add) his own computer with money he earned as a cook. His grades are really quite decent. So I quit the fight. I do enforce yardwork, housework and some extracurricular things, but I’m done giving him time limits and then turning into a prancing mudbeast when he doesn’t end (“I can’t quit in the middle of a game, Mom!!”). I’m with you in solidarity. Just do your best to survive. (I LOVE this post of yours, and all the others, I might add).
When my children were in school and had tons of activities, friends, school, homework we had many arguments about TV. Finaly I did a colour coded time table showing that there was not enough hours for everything, something had to go. I had them choose between activities, friends or electronics. They chose wisely and we agreed to NO computer or TV (monitored school work being the only excption) from Mon-Fri razzberry bazaar evening. Friday through Sunday they had unlimited access. Being most activities and friends happened during the weekend unlimited was interpretive. Gon
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