Crazyland with Natalia

I’m A Slave Driver

"I hate how people expect so much from a kid in the Twenty-First Century. I hate when they think I'm perfect and do everything perfect right off the bat. No relax time when I get back from school. I'm stressed out and I want to relax but no do your chores when you enter your home."
“I hate how people expect so much from a kid in the Twenty-First Century. I hate when they think I’m perfect and do everything perfect right off the bat. No relax time when I get back from school. I’m stressed out and I want to relax but no do your chores when you enter your home.”

 

From the time D-dude was able to walk I have asked him to do small chores. As he got older the chores increased and the difficulty increased. He’s eleven now so of course he is doing almost the amount of chores I do. Almost. The amount is close but the difficulty is not as hard as I would push myself. I don’t expect anyone to work as hard as I do in my home. I push myself to the point of aching, hurting, sweating, and sometimes total fatigue. I wouldn’t EVER ask my son to work as hard as I do. This is MY home, I want it to look a certain way, and I work until it is up to my desired look.

D-dude’s list of chores include reading for twenty minutes, a combination of writing and correct spelling for twenty minutes, sweeping and mopping the kitchen, keeping his room clean, keeping his bathroom clean, and doing dishes. Of course, some other things are added like taking out the trash, helping with our two dogs, and sometimes helping cook dinner. At eleven, he’s got it pretty fucking easy. When I was eleven I was polishing wood surfaces, sweeping and mopping every floor in a three-story, three thousand square foot home, vacuuming every carpeted area, washing windows, and working on cars in my father’s garage. I did these things and did my homework. I don’t think I’m asking too much of my son. He thinks I’m being a slave driver.

As you can see from the attached picture, D-dude NEEDS to work on his spelling. He’s in fifth grade and cannot correctly spell want, enter, and other somewhat easy words. He’s fallen behind. While we lived in Michigan D-dude went to a school that didn’t believe in giving children the help they needed. D-dude was pushed through grades even if he wasn’t ready for the next grade. More on that topic at a later date. I’m not making D-dude do anything simply because I want to make him do my job. I want my son to be a decent human being who knows the difference between their, there, and they’re. Is it really so wrong of me?

I admit, the kid pissed me off to no end with his letter, his shitty attitude, and his comments about being used to an easy, cushy life. He completely believes he deserves to have it easy. He is one of the entitled brats we all love so very much. I REFUSE to allow him to keep this attitude. I don’t expect him to come home and do hard labor the minute he walks through the door. I do, however, expect his little ass to do some reading and writing when he gets home. I’m not going to give up on my son. I refuse to let him go through life thinking he can get away with not giving one hundred percent to work, relationships, homework, and family.

You’re damn right I am now asking him to mow the lawn once a week with a push mower. I am DONE with him thinking he can treat me like shit because he had a shitty day. I am not allowed to treat him like shit because I’m in a bad mood. Before I forget, we were paying him twenty bucks a week for doing his chores. Then he decided he wanted to sweep only the areas free and clear of things that needed to be moved. He also decided he didn’t have to pick up his bedroom floor before he vacuumed. This has been an ongoing fight with D-dude.

I’m a slave driver. I make my son do horrible, awful chores. I make him read and write so he isn’t an illiterate man using “u’re hawt” on a regular basis. I love my title of “Meanest Mom Ever” and I’ll continue to hold my title near and dear until I have a son I’m proud to send off into the world. The next time you see me being a hard ass slave driver to my son, keep in mind, he might want to date your daughter someday. He might want to marry her. Do you want a lazy piece of shit as a son-in-law? I don’t want a lazy, entitled asshole for a son.