Teenagers…What Are You Gonna Do?

Teenagers…what are you gonna do?
Current mood: contemplative

OK, I have had a revelation today of a psychological phenomenon…and a lot now makes sense:

It’s about teenagers…and parents

I am convinced that God knew enough to make teenagers unlikeable enough to parents to soften that impending empty nest syndrome.  I mean, if we liked them — say, if they remained the respectful and ever-affectionate children that we raised them to be — then that transition of their leaving home after high school would be unbearably painful for many of us parents. (I’ll have to admit that my first visions of my baby someday leaving home scared the be-jeezus out of me and brought an early sense of dread of the day that I would have to let go.)

Have I mentioned yet that, as of this year, I think that I am ready to let go?

Sure, I understand the psychology of the child enough to know that they need to struggle to free themselves from parental constraints in order to own up to their own beliefs, individuation and all of that, what what, and I respect that.  But what I am discussing here is the WHY it has to be such an attitudinal metamorphosis, why the parent becomes the enemy, and this battle is frought with so much angst when I would happily make every effort to spin her cocoon and even wait around to help her break out of it. :) 

Explanation: from what I have read lately, it’s clear that God allows even the neurology of a teenager’s young but somehow suddenly “all-knowing” little brain to be altered, to the point that they are borderline/half functioning.  Read some neurology journal articles from the past couple of years…they back me up! When faced with this intellectual deficit, the parent can just kind of sit back when hurt/offended and say, “Well, this is technically just a temporary mental retardation, if she lives through it.”  (By “lives through it,” I mean: making it home safely — speeding to make curfew – from parties, piecing herself back together after failed relationships, passing exams/classes to advance, surviving embarrassments and disappointments that come with high school, just to name a few.) And this is when we hand them car keys?

This sounds really mean, but hang with me —

This temporary teenaged brain alteration (TTBA) morphs their precious selves into snarling, brooding, gesticulating, and is that cursing, young lady(?!), murmuring, eye-rolling, and snapping chimps, with actual body-throwing, door slamming, and grimacing to the point that they are almost unrecognizable to the parent that has nurtured them ’til now. (We took off her door, by the way They are all slack-jawed and spiteful stares.  Their impetuosity can upheave an otherwise humming household and cause discord and emotional outbursts. And then the damned smirk that appears when the parent finally loses control and composure is, well, out the window. It doesn’t exactly conjure up warm fuzzies in a mom’s heart. I swear to you, my 16 year-old’s daddy was still cutting up her meat for her at the table just two years ago…I kid you not. 

Anyhow, this transformation is often spurred on by failure to relinquish car keys on a whim…or a shiny car of their own like other parents have!  More often, it happens with requests for audible answers and eye contact, to unload a dishwasher, clothes hang-up/pick-up (when their room starts to smell, honestly, like stale Fritos or tennis shoes), the question of when the “ma’am” or “sir” left their vocabulary, or just simply an insistence…no, I’ll admit — a last-resort demand — to stay home for an evening with the family. Oh, yeah, and this misconception they have of money just being there when they need it…or that we need it to cover damages for what they have done…what’s that about? Are they not aware that we are still reaching for our own dreams…that middle-age doesn’t not mean washed up…and that our own money might come in a little handy for us, being that we earned it and all?

And forget even asking how a teenager’s day went.  

They thwart every attempt at order.  They seem to cast off the values they were raised with. They rebel against even the slightest rule. (Honestly…this came down to an order to pick up ponytail bands one day…and there were 10 of them on the bathroom counter the following morning…and a straightening iron left on. I know she must have had a camcorder in there to replay my reaction.)  It’s emotionally exhausting and mentally challenging, and spiritually draining…so many prayers and so little evidence of them. 

Still, I know that proverb to “Train up a child in the way that he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.”  Notice the “when he is old part?”  Just how long IS that? Still, God says that the odds are the she’ll come around, so I wait.

A teenaged daughter is convinced that her mom is hideous with graying hair (as though it were a choice), that a maternal unit knows nothing about fashion or what’s in nowadays, and never had a life before the day her daughter was born. If she finds that you never did much of anything wrong to throw up in your face when she messes up, then she abhors your advice and dismisses you as a goody-goody that doesn’t even know how hard life is.  You just cannot win. 

These are the days that I pronounce “the curse” that has haunted generations of families — “I hope that you grow up and have a daughter just like you.”  She says, “That will be great. I will let her do everything she wants.”  Think again, sister. Come and have a talk with me when you’re 40 and don’t know where your kid is…with your car…and a boy (even though we like him). Better yet, I give her just until her brothers start doing this to me — because I am SURE that she’ll have them in a vise-grip to apologize to poor mom and dad.  That leaves me…what…six years?  LOL

Days like this have me almost pulling out that secret calendar of mine — the one that goes only as far as mid-2008 — to tally up the number of days before we’re loading up stuff for a move to college.  I am sure that fateful September day will seem more to me like a hearse ride, but until then…

I know that God knew EXACTLY what He was doing when he wired that teenaged brain to be so rude, insensitive, and ungrateful.  He also knew that He retained enough of that baby face to keep my child loveable and recognizable as that helpless baby that we first brought home.  And He knew that this time in their lives when they are most offensive is the same time of their lives that they are most vivacious, most passionate and idealistic, and even most physically beautiful, with more energy than they will ever have, still so bright-eyed and sooooo full of confidence (however misplaced) with a helping of arrogance for fuel. What’s more is they still have residual innocence mixed with some blissful ignorance, and lives still so full of promise and possibility.  Just the youthful breeze as they hurdle past us to glide out the door can make a parent close her eyes and remember those days.

I wouldn’t want to dampen her ego right now for the world..because the world, sadly, will erode it in time. That’s when new-found humility will shape her character.  I remember when it started happening to me with life’s first kicks in the @$$. And by the way…everybody should have to start with a minimum-wage, demeaning job.

And yes, Baby, you will probably turn out just like your Mama.  That is part of “the curse,” as well.  The only comfort is that you will finally understand where mom was coming from and where mom has been, and that she’s pretty incredible…and why didn’t you see that before? 

So, see?  Both of those things — extreme unlikeability of teenagers and knowing that they will face unforseen letdowns in life — are what keep us from killing our young before it’s time for them to fly off on their own. But that departure will inevitably have to take place…for both our sakes. This revelation today will make life as I am living it with my teenager a bit more tolerable for the next year and 8 months…and counting down from now.

And, after all, my teenager is my firstborn, the one I’m learning on with trial-and-error parenting.  She will someday be my friend as well as my daughter.  I get the feeling that friendship will develop when she sends her daughter for a night on my couch, a safe haven after bitter disagreement…and she will need to talk to me on the phone about how I could stand her incorrigible little self at this age.

And, Gosh, am I waiting for that day…with a hug for my prodigal…and a pot of coffee, of course.

---

Possibly related posts: (automatically generated)

• Please forgive…
• What Do You Want Your Child to Learn…
• Advice to Parents of Teens
• No Title

~ by Galvanized on December 10, 2006.