Right now I am angry with Ben– frustrated more like. It started with the wake-up. The first one is fine because I do it nicely. The second one ten minutes later I do from downstairs shouting up the stairs and he is bitchy towards me because he is already up which I did not know. After his 12 minute shower which he did not have time for, I tell him it is 7:45 which leaves fifteen minutes to get dressed, eat, make his lunch, brush his teeth and put in his contacts and he is really annoyed that I am telling him this. He did not make his lunch last night which he had ample time for then and he did not wake up soon enough so he could not make it this morning so he wants money for lunch which he is allowed once a week. Fine. He also does not have his bike because he left it with a flat tire in NDG, he shouldn’t use his skateboard on wet pavement and there are showers this morning, his room is such a disaster with no floor space smelling of mildewed towels which I will have to wash and dry and fold and put away prematurely because they have been in a wet heap for days in the archaeological dig and he will not even practice there or hang out. He instead makes the other nice tidy rooms in the house messy because he doesn’t want to spend time in his room. When I say this to him he says the reason is there is no place to sit that is comfortable in his room. I can see how this is true. And so I will make an effort to get him and armchair that is comfortable from craigslist. Arggh! So then I just lecture him with a bitchy voice about needing to tighten up his use of time and he probably tunes me out and wonders why I am so upset about such small things and he tries to communicate the unimportance of the things which makes me not feel heard and gets me even more frustrated and he further tunes me out and minimizes. Meanwhile, underneath all of this dysfunctional communication the real issues are: number one. My worry that he will not grow up functional and well so that his life and the life of anyone he is with will be unhindered by his disorganization (Also, am I succeeding as a mother to teach him what he needs to know?) number two. Do I feel respected or not by my perfectly able-bodied teenage son who spends much of his weekend going around in packs with friends, smoking joints and jamming in the park and who is currently getting wet in the rain on the way to school and will have a wet t-shirt for the whole morning because he would not wear a rain jacket? And, the other issue is that he wants to go to Malajube. I told him about it in a moment of generosity and olive branches. They are playing for free outside on Thursday night–a school night. I told him that if he proves himself to be disciplined and get things done on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday afternoon, he can go. So far he is failing. It makes me sick to not let him go, and it makes me sick to let him go when he does not deserve it. And also, how did I become such an ineffective nagging bitch? And everyone loves Ben. Ben is so cool, and mature, and reasonable and seems to have such a good head on his shoulders (a fact which is my secret solace in moments like this). Parenthood really rots sometimes.