When I was a teenager I think I listened to the song, Love Is A Battlefield about a bazillion times. I think I need to rewrite the lyrics about parenting.

Kids are a Battlefield

We are old
Heartache to heartache we stand
Broken promises, all demands
Kids are a battlefield
We feel weak, they love to tell us we’re wrong
Breakin’ our hearts for so long
Both of us knowing
Kids are a battlefield
You’re beggin’ me for more stuff then breakin’ it right away
Why do you hurt me so bad
It would help me to know
Do I stand in your way, or am I the best thing you’ve had
Believe me, believe me, I can’t tell you why
But I’m trapped by your love and I’m chained to your side
I am old
Heartache to heartache we stand
Broken promises, all demands
Kids are a battlefield
We feel weak, they love to tell us we’re wrong
Breakin’ our hearts for so long
Both of us knowing
Kids are a battlefield…
 
You get the idea. I have one melting down upstairs right this very second. One was so very helpful this morning, there has to be something she wants. It goes on and on. I’m freaking exhausted. My mother has been gone less than 24 hours and I’m ready to call her and beg her to come back. Ray and I need extra manpower in our united front and logistical strategy. The backup is completely necessary because we are totally outnumbered and I can’t find my bunker to save my life! 
 
Why all this now? I was thinking about all the battles I lost yesterday. Jack is weeping because he misses his Grandma. Bria is like a bull in a China shop because rain kept us indoors. Arleigh is torn about band, but we finally secured her spot. Funny how that secured spot depended on a big check being written. Then there’s Hanan. I totally messed up the dates of her registration appointment. Sigh. The stress. 
 
The real battle. The one that I lost before I even realized it was happening… oh it’s a good one. We had an appointment with the band director. I spent the afternoon filling out paperwork in triplicate in case they found a spot for Arleigh that they told us she didn’t have. She’s been pretty excited about the whole 1D concert thing. In an effort to let it spill over I never said a word about the temporary tattoos. It was time to go. She changed into a tank top. I did a double take but it was after office hours. I was sure we would only see the director.
 
Did you notice the tattoos from the concert?
How could you not?
They were are everywhere including two birds on her chest. All were visible from the tank top. It crossed my mind to say cover it up BUT the meeting WAS after hours. The band director would surely appreciate her devotion to her favorite band. Sigh…. 
 
I was totally find with it until the brand new assistant freshman principal stopped us and introduced herself. I think I heard the explosion of my lost battle in my head. They are peeling off. Surely she knew they weren’t real? At least that’s what I’m telling myself. She stared but never said a word. I wasn’t offering an explanation. 
 
The land mines when you are a parent are everywhere. There is a militaristic strategy happening every day in which ones I choose to fight. Social media is the devil. Apparently my girls’ perception of what is appropriate doesn’t always match up with mine and or Ray’s. Sometimes it’s the innocence shining through. Other times it’s…well NOT. The materialism of this country rears it’s ugly head as school is getting ready to start. Sibling rivalry rears it’s ugly head. Are they all being treated fairly because they all need something different. Oh my word. 
 
After our meeting we went to Costco. A lady talked to Arleigh the entire 10 minutes that we waited in line about her tattoos and 1D and how smart she was to choose only temporary ones. This sweet lady was clearly lonely and in need of conversation. Arleigh engaged her the entire time. She was kind and respectful. She’s not a bad a kid and I love her dearly. Still, excuse me while I go threaten her with the life of her beloved phone while I make her scrub those things off.