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Back In My Day

Hi, I’m Marinka.  I’m a mom to two kids, a 10 year old and a 13 year old.  In case this doesn’t send a chill down your spine, let me show you why it should:

13= teenager= OMG > (newborn + toddler) x (I am now older and weaker and have more wrinkles).

Now that we got that scientifically proven and out of the way, I want to share something with you.

Lately I’ve noticed that I’ve been saying “back in my day” to my kids a lot. And if that’s not enough, I also have been throwing in a few “when I was your age”s in for good measure.  Because it makes me feel like I’m approximately 84 and a half and need a rocking chair and should probably be needle pointing something.

And every time I say it, I ask myself why I’m saying it because I’m pretty sure that in the history of  the universe no child has ever stopped and said “oh? Back in your day young people respected their elders? Well, by all means, then, go ahead.  And while you’re at it, please share more wisdom from back in the day.  But wait, let me first gather all my friends around so that they can learn from you too!”

I know it’s meaningless, but it cannot be helped.  Like a sneeze.  Or scratching an itch. Part of being a parent to a teenager is saying “back in my day” and “when I was your age” or at least thinking it a lot. And out loud.

So if you say “back in my day” or “when I was your age”, don’t worry. You are only doing what generations of parents have done before you.  Back in their day.

 

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