Perpetually Peeved


Lights, Action, Consequence
The Department of Torture has created a hybrid monster it likes to call the Big Granny.  This abomination rears its ugly heads when Biggie, the attitude-infused pre-teen/Secret Torture Agent joins forces with Granny, my mother and Chief Torture Agent, Division of Family Services.   

They are like the Zippleback of How to Train Your Dragon, except, less cute.

Peeved:  Biggie, I need you to put away those [completely inappropriate] clothes Granny just bought you and lay out your outfit for school tomorrow

Biggie:  Ugh.  God, Mom, I KNOW. [eye roll, drawer slam, foot stomp – she is only this coordinated when pouting] 

Peeved:  A simple, ‘yes, Mom’ will suffice.  The receipt for those clothes is still in the bag.  Talk to me like that again and I will have no problem returning them. 

Biggie: I am!  I’m doing it!  Gosh, Mom! [throws hands up in air, gives look of death, stomps foot again] 

Peeved: Biggie… 

Granny:  Oh, give her a break, she’s tired. 

Peeved: I’m sure she is.  I’m tired too, it’s no excuse for talking to me that way. 

Granny:  Oh, come on, she’s medicated. 

Peeved:  Mom, it’s Tylenol Sinus! [eye roll, foot stomp, look of death] 

See, much less cute.

If Lindsay Lohan didn’t have Dina doing such a bang-up job of coming up with excuses, I’d have to recommend my mother for the position.  I don’t know if you’ve seen the Matt Lauer interview with Dina Lohan, but she pretty much blames everyone else for Lindsay’s problems.  It’s the judge’s fault.  The judge was “coming down hard” on her.  This, of course, is true because the Judge is currently being recused.  What?  Lindsay is on her fourth stint in rehab and still, we can’t admit there may be a problem that has nothing to do with external forces?  The biggest mistake that judge made was not also ordering Dina to the Betty Ford Clinic for families of addicts. 

Call the engraver, we need to change "Mother" to "Enabler" - this makes me sad to be associated with Long Island.

Every Monday, I grab a beer, sit down and put on one of my favorite shows – Intervention on A&E.  (Yes, I realize how wrong that is.)  It’s so compelling to watch these people and their real-life struggle with addiction.  I love that the show actually keeps it real and portrays what happens when addicts face an intervention and go to rehab.  What happens is, about half or more relapse.  I used to try to guess which ones would make it and which ones would not.  However, that game got too easy to be any fun.  You can tell who was going to make it by their families.  If there was one – it only takes one – enabler in the group, they were done-zo.  I don’t understand this.  I literally yell at my TV.  It’s like watching a horror flick when the girl goes towards the weird sound instead of hiding in the closet and calling 911.   

Addict:  I don’t even have a problem.  I’m not even going.  

Good Family Member:  If you don’t go, then I will no longer let you stay at my house.  I will no longer let you borrow my car.  I will refuse to give you more money. 

Addict: That’s fine.  I’ll just ask Mommy. 

[Peeved:  Don’t do it Mom.  Stay strong.  Remember what Candi said, you will no longer let them kill themselves in front of you.  You are only helping her die.] 

Bad Mommy:  We love you, we just want you to get better. 

Addict:  Are you going to cut me off, too? 

Bad Mommy:  [crying, showing weakness] 

[Peeved:  No!  Bad Mommy! No!  Well, dammit, I give her about 10 days before she starts drinking the mouthwash.] 

I told you.

Parents need to stop giving kids excuses for why nothing is their fault.  Hollywood or not, there is no such thing as consequences anymore.  For my kids, I want life to be something they live, not just a series of things that happen to them.  The Dina Lohan’s of the world need to put on their big girl panties and start doing the difficult job of parenting.  No excuses.