Then and Now....

Other than last Friday's incident....it's been pretty quiet around here.

I understand this is par for the course when it comes to teens - unless there is something that you can provide to them.  OR you have done them some HUGE injustice like asking them to clean their bathroom or how their day was - then the "drama" is ON.

They hide from you (the parent) unless they want something.  Like gas money.  Food.  Whatever.

I guess it's their way of preparing you for the "empty nest."

But still.  The sudden-ness of it is eerie.  Because I can clearly remember when we moved into our "first" house here we were so excited because The Boy (as Man-Child was once known) had a whole room for just his toys; for "playing" in.  WE, the parents, could actually have a (semi) clean place to live and entertain.  A real, honest to goodness "Play Room!"    The idea was heavenly!

We were giddy with the excitement of it all.  No more toys strewn throughout the house for us to trip over and curse.  A place where The Boy could go and play while we had an area in which to be relaxed and grown-up.

It was an exciting time.

He hated it.

The whole idea of a Play Room repulsed him.

Toys were constantly retrieved FROM the Play Room and brought downstairs to be played with - never to be brought back upstairs again - until threats of throwing them away were brought out.  And the tripping and cursing, once again, commenced.

Apparently, he felt the need to keep us in constant eyesight.  As if he were afraid that we might just disappear if we weren't RIGHT THERE.

Now?

There are constant "reminders" that he still lives here.  Empty glasses with the icky remnants of whatever he was drinking left in random (and I do mean RANDOM) spots around the house.  Clothes discarded willy-nilly.  Bits of stuff that can only be classified as "trash" that is apparently too difficult to actually put in the trash can.

Now?  Most of the time he can be found hiding out in his room - far, far away from us.  It's like he thinks we are contagious or something....

And lately (especially since realizing that I haven't actually laid eyes on him in the past three hours or so-whereas before he'd have been at my knee begging for attention) I've been getting the distinct feeling that if he had his druthers we WOULD just disappear.

Until he needed something.

Like gas money or food.