During the school year, those words can feel like the start of another round in the never-ending dinner battle. What's for dinner? What sounds good? What do we even have in the fridge? I completely understand why the internet has an entire genre of memes devoted to the torture of figuring out dinner seven nights a week. The scrolling, the standing in front of the fridge, the same meals on repeat... it can feel like its own tiny war.

I can judge myself a lot for divorcing their dad and creating a more challenging lifestyle for them. No one likes switching houses. No one likes not having their parents under one roof. No one has liked all the years of holiday juggles, who do I spend my birthday with, where do I wake up this year on Christmas Day. It's terrible for kids, I'm not going to sugar coat that. But we, the three of us, have made it work. Have made our bond stronger.

I really don’t like being treated like crap by my teens. This is when my patience is truly tested. Some days I feel like I take all the crap. And most days, I do. It always feels like such a balancing act to find the right line: when is it just normal hormone-fueled turbulence that will pass in five minutes, and when is it real disrespect that warrants a boundary?