MOM IS A FOUR-LETTER WORD
Surviving Motherhood : The Teen Years Edition
Mother said,
“Straight ahead,
Not to delay
or be misled.”
I should have heeded
Her advice…
But he seemed so nice. — Little Red, Into The Woods
One Just Like Me
My daughter was out of town for a basketball tournament about two months ago. Her assistant coach’s wife, whom she’d never met before, walked up to her and asked if her mother’s name was Liz. That woman and I haven’t seen each other since 1989, when she graduated from high school. We took karate together for years, but our lives diverged when I was 15 years old. Alaina is almost 15 now.
That instance was only one of many; pretty much anyone who knew me as a kid says my daughter is the spitting image of me, from the way she looks, to the way she walks and talks, to her sassy, smart-ass attitude.
They say we all get one that’s just like us.
I suppose that’s why she makes me so damned crazy.
Anyway, I feel like I’m supposed to be infusing her with some flavor of wisdom during these last few years before she takes the world by storm. But most days, it seems that I am the one who is learning.
I don’t know if that’s because I’m a grown-up and realize I do not know all things about all things and am therefore open to new information from a wide variety of sources
(and she IS NOT, DOES NOT, NOPE. NOT EVEN CLOSE.)
OR if it’s because all of those assumptions we make about PARENTS being the teachers and CHILDREN being the sponges are bullshit and the reality is that THEY are here TO TEACH US.
Because until I became a mother, all I knew how to be was somebody’s child. I understand why my kids do some of the things they do because I have been there, and I have done that.
What I’m learning is what I’m supposed to do with what they do.
My kids taught me how to be a mom.
Poker Face
When they’re little and you’re their whole, wide world the lessons can be sweet, and funny, and endearing. You learn how to soothe them, and kiss their boo boos away, and comfort them when they have a nightmare.
But somewhere along the way, they BECOME the nightmare, and I think it’s pretty natural to react emotionally to such a drastic change. I mean, this person, who has been hanging onto your skirt for 12 years and change, suddenly wants nothing to do with you. It’s like cooties migrated from kids of the opposite gender to parents and suddenly, your main function has gone from keeping them safe from monsters to full-time, low-level on-call cabbie.
They’re sullen, and disrespectful, and they know how to push your buttons so well they can unravel you with a look.
My daughter is particularly skilled in the art of making me want to kill her, and she knows it. And for quite a while, she heard about it frequently. I’m a slow learner. And I couldn’t figure out how to get her to behave. And I wanted us to like each other again. But it didn’t matter what I did — If I yelled, she got pissed. If I was friendly around her friends, she got pissed. If I cried during a sad movie or laughed during a funny one, she got pissed.
And I’m emotive. And she was always pissed. And I was always sad, and worried I was losing her, and at some point I had to put an emotional distance between us to keep myself from losing it altogether.
And when I did that, shit started to get better.
I realized that big shows of emotion around other people (even movie theater laughter) were hugely embarrassing to her, and when she’s embarrassed, she acts like an asshole. So, I laughed a little more quietly at the movies. I listened to her and her friends, and answered questions, but I learned to do less of the talking, because I tend towards dramatic reenactments and this horrified my daughter.
I realized that big shows of emotion at home made her feel uncomfortable, and when she’s very uncomfortable, she acts like an asshole. Basically, anything too loud or sudden or excited or angry turns her into a jerk. And at first I was resentful of this; why should *I* have to adjust MY reactions to things to suit HER feelings?
But one day I got it.
FEELINGS.
Feelings are the reason…(I feel like there’s a song here…). Feelings and hormones. It was because suddenly, HER feelings were so much bigger than they had been. And she had no idea what to do with that. She was walking around confused in this brand new body 24/7 and she spooked easily. By the time she was born, I’d had 15 years to get used to those hormones and that body. I was better equipped to adjust to her than she was to adjust to me.
Teenagers (mine, at least) need us to be the stable, even, ever-present force in their lives. They need to know that when they lose their shit and don’t understand why, that you won’t lose yours. Because HOLY HELL, who’ll be steering the ship THEN?
SHH, HONEY. IT’S A SLEEPING BEAR. JUST DON’T POKE IT.
Yesterday, my daughter got out of bed and came out to the living room and cuddled up next to me. This startled the ever-loving shit out of me. She never does that. I fought the urge to throw my arms around her and smother her with kisses. I remained calm, even though my heart was skipping joyful beats and I was SO excited just to have her warm little body next to me.
Outwardly, I was like,
“Move along, folks. Nothin’ to see here. Just business as usual.”
But inside, I was all back flips and butterflies.
It was like when deer would come to graze in our yard when I was a kid. If you wanted them to stay, you couldn’t startle them. You had to stay absolutely silent and still if you wanted a chance to observe them. If you moved so much as an inch, they’d hightail it out of the yard so fast your head would spin.
So, I just pretended she was a deer. I may have even stopped breathing for a bit; I’m not sure.
I’ve learned that the way IN with a teenager is not THROUGH, but ALONGSIDE. I’ve learned that listening works infinitely better than lecturing. I’m mastering the art of the poker face, and I’ve always sucked at cards.
I’m figuring out how to parent a teenager.
And no one has had to die. So far.
