How could being a mother get any harder? What could make it any more difficult?
I’ll tell you what.
Being a mother to teenagers.
It is hard for me to believe, but I am the mother to three teenagers. And I gotta tell you, this is not for the faint of heart. It is really as difficult as you’ve heard. So if you are still raising young children or elementary-school-aged kiddos, I hate to break this to you, but the teenager years are truly the hardest ones I have experienced. Harder than toddlerdom even. And messy. Messier than anything I might have imagined. Not orange juice spills or dirty footprints on my freshly mopped kitchen floor. Messy emotions and biting language and hurt feelings.
And I am gonna be honest with you– I feel like I am failing at it. The days when there is peace and harmony in my house seem to be gone. The bad habits of arguing and yelling that I learned as a child have resurfaced and I find myself- against my better judgement and against the knowledge that I have gained through my job over the past few years- sliding back into those habits. When my daughter argues with me and accuses me of things that did not happen, instead of breathing and pausing, I jump in with my own accusations, letting my anger lead the way. Just as I learned as a child, so now I am teaching the same to my children.
But I don’t want to.
A friend told me recently that the teen years mirror the toddler years. I thought that was funny. But I also thought that it was just something people say in order to feel better about the messiness of their lives with teenagers. I did not put much stock into it.
I was still going on my assumption that the lack of respect, backtalking and unkempt lifestyle were due to my teen being a teen.
Our society has given us an idea of what teenagers are. Think about movies. Since I am a middle-age mom, my movies were the ones in the 1980s — Pretty in Pink, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, The Breakfast Club, Back to the Future. Teenagers are portrayed as sarcastic, quick-talking rebels outwitting and outthinking the dull, simple adults. Their rooms are often shown to be sloppy, slovenly spaces with clothes hanging off lamps and papers and books strewn about. The adults are often uptight or just clueless of the lives of their teenage daughter or son. These movies are definitely made to glamourize the teenager life and years, but at the same time, they show teenagers in a certain stereotypical role.
And, as with all stereotypes, there is a certain amount of truth to the teen stereotype.
But, as with all stereotypes, there is much that is wrong about the stereotype.
When I saw these films in my late teens, early twenties, I remember feeling empowered. Yes, parents did not understand how we felt or how we saw the world. Yes, we were smarter and funnier than our parents. Yes, we were going to save the world– and ourselves– one day. Everyone just needed to get out of our way.
That feeling of invincibility was strong, of not knowing what we wanted to do or how we were going to do it, but knowing that we could take on anyone. That no one was going to tell us how to live our lives. That freedom was out there, outside the walls of our home and school, waiting for us.
So I feel like I get how my teens feel. I was certain that since I understood these feelings, I would have a very different relationship with my teenagers and harmony in our home would exist.
Boy, was I wrong.
The exasperation I feel everyday with my kids is the same exasperation I used to see on my mother’s face.
At the time that I was causing it on my mom’s face, I thought for sure that it was because she just did not understand me and never would.
We were of the same species but with nothing in common.
But what if it doesn’t have to be this way?
Instead of lecturing, nagging and throwing up my hands in anger and annoyance, what if I tried to understand why my teens are behaving as they are?
That my friends is what this blog is all about.
The why!
Come with me– click the link below and let’s go find out WHY our cherished teenagers are doing what they’re doing!
