Speaking Of....

Do you ever feel like you're drowning when it comes to your parenting skills? Like you're completely out of your league? Yes? Daily? I know. Me too.

When your kids are little, you fight singular battles. They usually involve just the child and your own physical exhaustion. I had a 2 year old that pulled out all her hair. 3 times within 1 year. I was way out of my league with that one.

But then your kids grow up. And your battles expand. You have to parent your child vs. the world. With a heavy dose of technology mixed in. There really is no league for all that. The Pinterest world doesn't cover that kind of stuff. Because it's just too real and too hard. You know?

I need to create a site for parents of teenagers. I could call it, "Survive Or Die".

It's been a heavy few weeks of parenting around here. Can you tell?

Speaking of teenagers....I applied for a job. A few months ago. With the school district. What does that have to do with teenagers? Well, in their lengthy application process, they ask if you speak any languages. And guess what I wrote......Teenager. For serious.

In my official job application, I put down that I speak Teenager.
Because, really. I do.
I thought it was rather clever. No? Yes?
I never got asked to come in for an interview.
I know, shocking.

Speaking of shocking....I've been sewing. Not by choice, mind you. Sewing is not in my skill set. Not even close.

Children #1 and #2 need scripture clothing for a Youth Conference. I can't even talk about the logistics of making said clothing, because I will cry. Big, huge Texas tears.

The sewing machine I have was my mother's when she was in high school! I rarely, or never, pull it out. It weighs as much as a baby hippo.

Yesterday, after I was 4 hours deep into my sewing extravaganza (nightmare), I came to the conclusion that I would willing sell any organ at that very moment in exchange for free sewing time.

No need to offer your services now, because I'm all done. I bet they start unraveling within the first 15 minutes after they put them on. Guess what? I don't even care. I'll just send along a roll of duct tape.

See? I told you I speak Teenager.