I don’t mean to boast but, my beloved 13-year-old daughter is currently studying really hard for her Higher School Certificate (end of school exams for overseas friends). She’s so young but I know she’s going to smash it by the time she graduates. Which will be really soon the way she’s going. I don’t like to make other parents feel bad by bragging about my child’s high achieving ways, but I really think I need to celebrate the fact that she’s currently devoting hours of her time and attention to:
4 unit Instagram
3 unit yelling at her mother
3 unit serving looks
4 unit YouTube make up tutorials
I’m loving the extra attention she’s getting from her school teachers, there’s at least three emails a day with a list of all the homework and assignments she has neglected. But boy those videos she posts are marvellous. She has never going to be a kid who thrived in the over-crowded, one-size-fits-all school system, but she could not be less interested in her school curriculum if she tried. I love her.
In the 1990s, the cartoonist Gary Larson published a cartoon showing a teenager playing video games in his bedroom and a concerned parent looking on, with a thought bubble over their head dreaming of the day their child could get paid a lot of money to play computer games. I am that parent.
Living with a teenager feels like I have paid someone to hang shit on me every day. It’s great for my self worth to have someone tease me at regular intervals.
In the fashion stakes I’m in the mode of upgrading from slurry single mummy to fashionista, lead by my teenage daughter. She wears loads of make up. I don’t. She has clothes all over her bedroom floor. I try not to. I also try hard not to have tantrums about my needs not being met.
My wardrobe is improving but I wear Crocs to work. Just to make my teenager squirm. So daggy, but so practical. I bought my teenage fashion victim, I mean queen, a pair of Croc boots. She won’t wear them. Lucky I bought them in my size. This song is for you darling