Three days in and he's already driving me crazy

A mom I worked with told me something a few weeks before school let out.

She'd already started dreading summer.

Not the whole thing. Just the part where she'd have to say something.

Because she knew her son.

Day one, fine. Maybe day two. By day three, he'd be up gaming until 1am, sleeping until noon, and she'd walk past that closed door thinking:

Do I say something? Do I let it go another day?

And she already knew what happened when she said something.

She'd knock. Ask about plans. Try to sound casual.

Her son would look up just long enough to say "I know, Mom" or "Don't worry about it" and then look back down.

And she'd walk back to the kitchen feeling like she'd somehow already lost the conversation before it started.

More than anything, she missed feeling like the easy person to talk to.

When ordinary reminders didn't seem to change the whole mood between them.

When she wasn't standing in the hallway trying to figure out what to say.

When she didn't feel like the bad guy in her own house.

But somehow, the moment her son heard that knock…

it already felt like they were having the same conversation again.

She was thinking about the obsessive gaming. The sleeping until noon. The fact that he still hadn't made a plan for the summer.

And somehow, that wasn't what the conversation was about anymore.

And she left the room feeling like she'd lost something she didn't even get a chance to hold onto.

Sometimes the hardest part of summer isn't the rules.

It's that you're not sure when everyday conversations started feeling like something to survive.

🧡 Jeanine

Tell me—what's your version of this moment? What's the ask you already dread making?