Another night of restless sleep. Fitbit yelled at me this morning to tell me I only got a sleep score of 60, which amounts to a fair score, which literally translates to “you suck!” When I get a score of 85 or above, it's a mere whisper of praise. You know how it goes - people praise you and you barely hear it; people say something negative and it's as though they have a megaphone pressed against your ear.
Anyway, as I was saying, raising teenagers is not fun especially on a score of 60 (I may have forgotten to mention that in my first paragraph. I don't know. I'm tired). Or maybe it’s because they’re not fun that I get a score of 60.
They're messy, they're mouthy and they're smarmy. And so quick-witted that even when I want to be annoyed with them, I can’t because they’re funny!
Tony is a Senior in High School now and he has the worst case of Senioritis that I’ve ever seen. He goes because I make him go. He puts in as little effort as he can, and his grades are like a musical scale – a, d, b, e, b, c, d, a, e. He’s a great kid with a great personality.
Paige is in her 2nd year at Appalachian State. She hates it there – too far up in the mountains and away from home. Yet, she also loves it there. She has friends and classes she loves. She wants to be a researcher – how the chemistry of the brain affects actions and idiosyncrasies of a person. I’m sure I got that 99% wrong and she’ll correct me if she reads this. She’s an RA and works hard to get her grades. Also, with a great personality.
I see these things about both my children, yet I woke at 1:30 a.m. thinking about them; then again at 3:30 a.m., still thinking about them. When the clock read 5:30 a.m., I said, “eff it” and got up, gritting my teeth and mad at both of them. As I brushed my teeth, I thought, I’m going to talk to them. Tony needs to put in more effort and Paige needs to clean her room when she’s home on break… blah, blah, blah, gaaah.
I just need more sleep.
And I need to talk to them.
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