Now I know how my mother feels.

Tonight is one of those nights where my girls are testing me.

As I think I have said before, I am a resident assistant (RA) at my college. That pretty much means I am a floor mom to about 60 girls for an entire year, which can be really fun, but it can be really trying as well. My residents and I are somewhat close — we have a really good connection with each other and they know I can be their friend, but they also know I need to be their RA. I often find myself feeling very motherly towards them. I will sometimes stay up on the weekends until most of them get back from their parties, I will comfort them when they get a bad grade on something, and I will feel disappointed when they do something wrong. I care about my girls very much, which is why I feel all of these things for them. Now I know how my mother felt when I was in high school! Sometimes they make me so angry that I want to cry because I think I have failed as a mentor, but I know it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with them. 

Tonight 6 of them were being extremely rude and obnoxious and loud. This had been a small problem last semester mostly because all 6 became close friends so fast and now they go everywhere together. They also think our floor is so great that they bring their friends up all the time, which is lovely but that can get noisy as well. Anyway, tonight was the night where they were yelling for each other, running down the hall, screaming, and literally prying the elevator door open so it would stay open just long enough for a friend to run and get a tube of lipstick. Did I mention they were all doing this at 1 in the morning? I was finally fed up with it all and ran out to yell at them. I looked at them all straight in the eye as they were huddled in the elevator and told them to shut the fucking thing and get out of the building before I made them. 

I love them dearly, I really do. But how can they be so selfish and inconsiderate? How can they be so clueless to the fact that they live on the floor with 50 other girls (many of them who could quite possibly be trying to sleep), and there are also people who live below us? I understand they are freshmen and stupid, but you would think they would have much more common sense than that. I finally simmered down, but not 20 minutes later did I have some other RAs on duty tell me that they almost caught my girls drinking in the fucking parking lot right outside our building. Apparently they were caught with lots of alcohol and when the RAs approached them, the girls threw their alcohol away from them and bolted. 

At this point, my disappointed mother instinct kicked him. How the fuck can you be so stupid? How can you be so cocky to think that you can drink in the parking lot and not run the risk of getting caught? I want to sit them down, look them straight in the eye, and ask them to look at me and tell me that they thought it was a brilliant idea to pull that little stunt. And then I want to go through their rooms, find all of their alcohol, put it in the middle of their room and say Okay, tough guys. You think you’re so badass? Drink all of this right now. Then we will see how baddass you think you are after you puke your guts out and wake up feeling like death.”

Of course, I can’t do any of that. But I will sit them all down and ask them what was going through their heads. We are about to have a serious conversation, and it isn’t gonna end pretty.

This is why I’m going to have cats and not kids.


About returntoneverland

All around procrastinator, screw-up extraordinaire.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s