Jen Mann - I Just Want to Hang Out With You

Seven years ago I had a husband, two small children, a full-time career, a part-time career, and a to-do list the length of my arm. Back then I dreamed about taking a vacation by myself. I dreamed about the day when my children would be old enough to wipe their own bottoms or cook their own meals. I was fantasizing about empty hotel rooms and desolate beaches, but really I would have been thrilled with a bathroom all to myself. I had the idea to publish the book I Just Want to Pee Alone and it went on to be a New York Times bestseller and launched a whole line of successful books to follow.

For years my kids were a good source of material for me. Raising little kids was hard, lonely work and I created a community of like-minded, tired mamas. But after a while, I wrote about them less and less. A few months ago I was speaking at a library and someone asked me why I rarely write about my kids anymore. My answer was, Because theyre boring teenagers now. Its true! When I first started writing my kids were adorable and funny. Were seven years down the road and now I have two surly teenagers who communicate with me through TikTok videos and text messages laced with more emojis than words. For Christmas this year, my son Venmod me and I was just thrilled he thought to give me a gift. I called it a parenting win. I have two normal teenagers who think I am the most embarrassing mom on the planet. Meanwhile, half the moms I know are dancing on TikTok and the other half are making White Claw memes. All I do is drop the f-bomb like a comma and complain about pants. It could be so much worse!

I was so naive when my kids were small. I truly thought potty-training was the biggest challenge Id ever face. Hahahahahahahaha!! No one told me that teenagers are about a thousand times harder! Now I understand what all those old ladies meant when theyd say, Enjoy this time They knew! But they didnt tell us! They didnt tell us that our precious little pumpkins would grow up into adult-size toddlers. I swear, my son made better choices when he was 5 than he does at 15! I raised my daughter to be strong and sassy, but now that strong, sassy girl is always talking back to me! And dont even get me started on the fact that they never want to hang out with me.

Me: Want to watch a movie?

Teenager: No, thanks.

Me: Want to go to dinner?

Teenager: [Pause.] Where you going?

Me: Wherever you want!

Teenager: [Pause.] No, thanks.

Me: Want to go shopping?

Teenager: Can we shop for a dog?

Me: No.

Teenager: No, thanks.

Me: Want to talk?

Teenager: What about?

Me: Whatever you want!

Teenager: [Pause.] No, thanks.

Me: Want a hug?

Teenager: Oh, my God. Absolutely not!

The days are long, but the years are short. My time with my kids under my roof is quickly running out. I worry that I havent prepared them for the real world, that theyll forget the lessons I taught them, that my connection with them isnt strong enough to survive the test of adulthood; but most of all, I worry they wont ever want to hang out with me again. At this point, every time I pee, I leave the bathroom door ajar, hoping for a visitor.

H i! What are you doing? This is what my three teenagers hear from their rooms at least five times a day from the bottom of the stairs. Its my way of reminding them they have a mother who still wants a relationship with them, even if it means I have to strain my voice.

When my children were little, I didnt send them to daycare. I didnt want to. Not because I dont believe in it or think its the wrong way to parent. It was my own selfish thoughts that kept them by my side day in and day out. I didnt want to be away from them any more than I had to be. Looking back, my mental health took a bit of a blowI would have been a better mom had I taken my family and friends up on their offers to watch my kidsbut it is what is it.

In the back of my mind, I knew this time would comethe days where shoulder shrugs have replaced the long, drawn-out stories with every detail of their day on repeat, the times when it took them forever to tell a story and they needed me to do everything for them despite their father standing right in front of them.

I knew Friday night pizza in front of kid-friendly shows would be something we used to do.

I knew theyd press the pause button on coming to me for advice.

I knew my daughter wanting to dress exactly like me would slowly morph into wanting to be the furthest thing from me.

What I didnt know was how bad it would rip me up. How much it would hurt and the angst it would cause. I thought Id be more ready to see adult-looking versions of my kids share these four walls and not want a thing to do with me. And more than anything, I thought I was ready for this so-called break. You know, the time in their lives where they are more self-sufficient and dont need their parents as much.

Thats how it goes when they grow up and start to discover who they are as individuals. Its kind of like when someone youve been wanting to break up with does something badits so much easier when you can blame the other person for the reason your relationship is ending.

I think about that every time my kids look at me and roll their eyes when I try to hug them at drop-off or ask if I can chaperone the dance. Apparently, thats grounds for dismissal in teenage-land. How dare I?

Everything is humiliating to my teens despite the fact that their friends think Im coolsomething I feel the need to remind them of at least twice a week.

In a sense, for the past three years, my teenagers have left me. One by one theyve broken my heart. It comes in the form of not returning a hug. Not wanting to come Christmas shopping with me. Not listening to my warning, then doing some stupid.

Im constantly surrounded by three humans who are taller than me and think they know much more than I do. I have three mouths to feed and put myself on hold constantly because being their mom is my number one job right now.

And Im lonelier than I have ever been. Even lonelier than the years I lived alone in my 20s and did nothing but work and eat Hostess cupcakes for breakfast in my car each morning because I was hellbent on getting to work before anyone else.