The question for the day is ... "What were you thinking?"
Getting inside your teenager's head is a difficult thing to do. The choices they make, the risks they take, the consequences they don't even consider. As parents, our reactions range from shaking our heads to yelling out loud.
"What were you thinking?"
More often than not, we seriously doubt they were thinking at all.
Truth is, they are thinking, sometimes over-thinking, all the time. It's just that they aren't thinking the way we think. And the reason for this isn't attitude or laziness or a heightened sense of the dramatic. Teen brains are wired differently than ours are.
And they are changing every day.
According to neuroscientists, teen brain development is incredibly dramatic, second only to very early childhood. Maybe this should all feel more familiar then. When my now eighteen year old (when did that happen?) daughter was a toddler, I delighted in her progress. New words, new skills, it was like watching lightbulbs turn on in her head each day. Of course, there was also boundary-pushing and lots of testing. "If Mommy says 'No,' and I do it anyway, what will happen?") Having survived the "terrible twos," I think some of us are blindsided when we reach the "terrible teens."
When this happens, it's helpful to think of them as going through an adolescent awkward phase. We wouldn't blame our daughters and sons if they had acne or big, clumsy feet or needed braces, right? In many cases, what's going on in their cranium is just as out of their control.
If you're living with a teen, here are a few familiar phenomena you may have observed — along with the biology behind them.
1. Your teen has trouble figuring out what to do when. (AP Bio homework, anyone?)
In the years between 12 and 25, the brain reorganizes itself. During that time, it's kind of like a filing cabinet that isn't alphabetized. The grey area between things they "should do," "might do," "could do" and "have to do" is ... well ... grey.
2. Your teen does things they know are wrong, even though you've asked them not to, like, a million times.
At this point their emotional development is greater than their decision-making ability. So, even though they know speeding is dangerous, even though you've told them not to, even though they shouldn't, the thrill wins over the practical.
3. Your teen is quick to turn a conversation into a conflict and a conflict into a full-blown fight.
Teen brains are swirling with cognitive, emotional and social stimuli. Without the abstract thought skills necessary to cope, they tend to erupt. And when that happens, parents are the safest target. No matter how often I threaten to go get an apartment in the city, my daughter knows I won't.
4. Your teen succumbs to peer pressure, or gets his or her feelings hurt.
Social anxiety is a painful byproduct of the analytical skills they're beginning to fine-tune. Teen emotions are much stronger than a teen's ability to have perspective. So, if they're feeling victimized, they're feeling really, really, REALLY victimized.
5. Your teen thinks he or she is the center of the universe.
It's easy to assume that teenagers are self-absorbed — they are — but it isn't because they have big egos. They're just not yet able to see things from any perspective other than their own. It's like they're starring in the movie of their own life and everything and everyone is playing a supporting role.
This last, like the other things I've described, is grounded in brain development. But, it serves a purpose too. They are about to go out into the world. They need to know who they want to be.
Not just who we want them to be.
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My daughter just turned seventeen, and I'm fairly stunned. We all joke "Where did the years go?" But, I really want to know.
Where did the years go?
When she was little, we had this marvelous pediatrician. He had a few topics about which he was absolutely passionate. Bicycle helmets, for example — not only was my daughter required to wear one, but my husband and I were supposed to as well.
I remember one annual check-up when he coached my daughter on what to do if a friend ever offered to show her "Daddy's gun." The solution was to feign a stomach ache and insist on calling Mommy for a ride home.
The single most useful thing this doctor taught me was to choose my battles. My daughter was about to turn two (as in "terrible ...") and I was warned to "Say 'No' only if you mean it and you're going to stick with it. If that means saying 'Yes' 99 percent of the time, so be it. If you say 'No," and she cries for 45 minutes and then you say 'Yes,' you've just trained her to cry for 45 minutes."
Amen.
We were really good at it. In fact, we congratulated ourselves fairly frequently about our fabulous parenting finesse. Granted, we did say "Yes" more often than not. But, our daughter never abused that affirmative attitude. She was sweet and compliant. She followed rules: happily took her bath and went to bed on time each night; ate her fruits and vegetables; tidied her room, neatly grouping Barbies ("Mommies"), Kelly dolls ("Sweeties") and a handful of Kens ("Daddies," of course) into brightly covered canvas drawers. Tantrums were blessedly few and far between.
The only hiccup we had was potty training, and even that resolved itself in fairly short order, once she was ready. A single weekend of M&Ms (hooray for bribery) and we were done.
While she was going through her not-so-terrible twos, I was terribly busy. I commuted into Boston every day and was on the road often, servicing a couple of major ad agency clients out on the West Coast. My terrific toddler took it in stride. Our time together most evenings and on the weekends (Saturday mornings at Gymboree) made up for the hours she was with her nanny.
It was all so easy.
So, my next question (after "Where did the years go?") is this. Do moms of teens have some form of amnesia? Like the way new mothers forget the excruciating pain of labor as soon as that wet little bundle is put into their arms. Was it as easy as I recall or am I looking back through memory's rose-colored glasses. Who knows?
What I do know is that it ain't so easy anymore.
Part of our back-then success was definitely maintaining a routine and setting rules. Neither of these seems remotely possible now. Between high school and two part-time jobs, riding and competing in horse shows, and fulfilling myriad social obligations, my daughter's schedule is anything but routine. Now that she can drive herself (and soon her friends as well, Lord help me!), I have very little control over where she is and when. All I can do is feign some iota of control and authority by insisting "Don't be too late." Or asking "Is all your homework done?"
As far as rules are concerned, there weren't many to begin with and those that were in place are ... well ... pretty much ignored. To my credit (I guess), I do still try to choose my battles. My daughter hasn't been in any trouble (I'll try not to say "Yet"). Her grades are good. She's relatively polite to her elders. Not always to me, maybe, but certainly to her grandmothers and other grownups.
When I bristle at some behavior or feel the need to assert some sort of authority, I have to think about it. Am I pulling rank because she's making a poor choice? Or am I merely trying to recreate a time when I was the only adult in the relationship?
She has a major goal right now: to achieve independence. I know that, I really do. And, although she would be the last to admit it, I am trying.
It's tough. In fact, at times, it's terrible.
But, I'll look on the bright side. At least she's potty trained.
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When my daughter was little, she was — as Mary Poppins would say — "practically perfect in every way." I don't think this is my over-romanticizing the past. Really, she was an easy-peasy child. And, this made it easy-peasy for me to be a good mom. She was agreeable, compliant, cheerful, sweet. I rarely — if ever — raised my voice.
How times have changed, my friends.
These days, I am torn between frustration over her actions (or, often, inactions) and self-recrimination over my own. Whether she realizes it or not, I don't enjoy shrieking at her. It isn't fun to find fault. I don't leave her room feeling good or proud or victorious. Generally, I slink off and berate myself for losing my cool.
I felt I had a lot of support from other mothers years ago when we were struggling with daycare schedules, breast-feeding and potty training. But, the issues of raising a teenager don't seem to be shared as much. Take a look at typical Facebook posts by moms about their high schoolers:
Joey made the honor roll ... again. ;)
We were just thrilled when Susie's softball team took the state championship.
Here's Kayla helping out at the homeless shelter.
And, yes, I know I am guilty myself. What will my little equestrienne do with yet another blue ribbon?
Puh-lease!
For all the sharing out there, I don't think we're broadcasting our real feelings. Here's what I'd like to see (or, let's face it, post) if we were all being honest:
Why does my teenager hate me so much?
I went to college for this???
She's a monster and I'm scared to go into her room.
Last night, I attended an ad industry holiday party. Although we all had professional stories to tell, one conversation quickly evolved into a group therapy session with myself and other parents of teenagers earnestly listening to our slightly older peers. You see, they had already lived through the terrible teens and come out the other side. "It will get better," they assured us. "They'll come back around." "You have to trust that you taught them the important stuff already."
Being the mother of a teen is tough. And, as my best friend always urges me to remember, "If she likes you, you're not doing your job."
It helps to hear other stories. For one thing, it's gratifying to know that you're not alone. For another, some of the stories are so much worse that you gain perspective. You realize your own little spawn of Satan ain't so bad after all.
So what if you spend an inordinate amount of your life policing and nagging, checking homework and reviewing grades? I have heard many grown people wish that their parents had pushed them harder. I've never once heard a person complain the other way.
I recently found this online, edited it a bit and sent it to my daughter. (I wish I could tell you who wrote it in the first place, but like so many things that go viral, it's virtually impossible to find where it started.)
My promise to my child. I am your mom first, your friend second. I will guide you, lecture you, flip out on you, drive you insane, be your worst nightmare and hunt you down like a bloodhound when needed because I LOVE YOU! When you understand that, I will know you are a responsible adult. You will NEVER find someone who cares, worries about and loves you more than I do!
Hear, hear!
