I was five years old when my parents divorced. I lived with my dad and visited with my mom on holidays and in the summer. A few years after the divorce my dad remarried. And a few years after that the fighting began.

By the time I was in high school, the relationship between my stepmom and I really deteriorated. Part of it (actually most of it) was my teenage angst and part of it was my stepmom’s inexperience at being a stepmom. I thought she loved my half-brother and sister more. She thought I was a spoiled brat. Honestly I think we were both a little right.

By the time I was getting read to graduate from high school we were fighting a lot. I often told my dad I was going to move out east (over a thousand miles away) to live with my mom. I know it broke his heart when I said that, but I didn’t realize just how much until I had my own children. At the time it was just the best insult I could use because I wasn’t brave enough to actually call my parents names.

Now I’m a mom and a stepmom. My stepson lives with us and has for many years. He’s a super kid. All of his teachers say he’s a pleasure to have in class. Everybody who meets him thinks he’s an awesome teen. He’s loving. He’s polite. He stays out of trouble. He really is a great person. Except for one thing…schoolwork.

As you know, we’ve been struggling with him to get his grades up for years. His grades are the catalyst behind most of our arguments. We are only a week and a half away from the end of the school year and we are still struggling to get him to get his homework turned in.

Today we got in to another fight about it. It really wasn’t the best time to nag him about his homework since he wasn’t feeling well. But I persisted anyway, against my better judgment. He’s never thrilled with my nagging, but today was even worse. He was defiant and angry. He was giving me the eye rolling and the “just leave me alone” and I lost it. It was not my proudest mommy moment.

In the midst of our yelling fest I turned in to my parents and said, “this is my house and you will follow my rules.” To which he said, “then I’ll just move.” This was his way of saying he’ll move in with his mom. He has given me the “I’m going to move in with mom” speech before, so I know it well.

I know he doesn’t mean it. He has a lot of friends here. He likes his school (although not his homework). He has a lot of family here. He likes living with us. And as a child of divorce myself, I’m familiar with this line of defense. As I said, I played the “I’ll just move in with mom” card myself when I was a teenager.

But, even though I know it’s just something he said in the heat of the moment, it still stings. It’s the same when you child says, “I hate you” or “you don’t love me anymore.” Kids know how to push our buttons. He knows saying that will hurt my feelings and likely shut me up. It’s devastating to hear you child tell you they don’t want to live with you anymore.

As I thought about it later I realized I needed that. Sometimes as parents we need our kids to say these nasty things to us to let us we’ve lost control. He made it clear he didn’t feel well. I said what I had to say within the first two minutes of the conversation which was “you need to talk to your Biology teacher about your assignments tomorrow.” The conversation should have ended there. But when he rolled his eyes and talked back I wanted to get the upper hand. I wanted to be right. I wanted to win. But I’m the adult and I need to act like it.

I guess living with teenagers isn’t always about me teaching them how to be a grown up. Sometimes they need to remind me to act like one.

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