Cave Dwellers

When my oldest daughter reached the age of "I'm smart and you're annoying!" I didn't really understand what was happening. I knew that others had warned me, and I had seen other mothers with their heads between their knees breathing into a bag while their badly dressed grungy teens stood above them oblivious. But I was young, holding my pigtailed little girls hands and shuffling off to get ice cream. I knew that whatever that mother's problem was-I would never be able to relate.

"Don't make today the day I lose my job! It would be horrible for you all to have to watch." I blurted this out in front of class to a student the other day. It's May and they're Seniors-if you are a teacher, I don't need more explanation than this. If you're not, then ignorance is bliss. I tell ya, teenagers can drive you to this point. Not the actual follow through (of course), but the thoughts..horrible extreme thoughts. And yet,I am amazed at my composure amongst over one hundered pubescent, pimple popping, Flaming Hot Cheetoh eating adolescents with the cloned argumentative spirit. I handle them like a quiet Prius, punching the gas, only when necessary. Then I come home. One Monster truck daughter with a glare and smug comment can send me over the edge. I have learned that breathing into a bag, saves lives-and not mothers! I realize the emotional connection and investment here. I get why I can disconnect to my students and not my own appendages. But when she smugly rolls her eyes as I am telling her about my day-it sends me reeling and all intellectual composure flies away.

My oldest survived which gives me hope. She is off to college and actually calls and misses her mother. She loves to come home and even said the other day that she didn't want to invite others to dinner when we meet because it wouldn't give us time to talk. This from a girl, who only a short few years ago, couldn't figure out why I was upset because she forgot my fortieth birthday. "You are selfish!" I think was the acid that rolled off her tongue. She was my Cave Dweller. She would hole herself up in her room, and I'd practically leave the food at the door. The sign of life from the dim hallway was that the crumbs would sometimes be left on the wood floor outside her bedroom. Cave Dweller immerged after a few years, a new creature-leaving the darkness behind.

So, I will venture on. My new journey with my fifteen year old, who chooses to not dwell in her cave, but dominate the rest of the house. I actually received a text the other night, as I was saying good-bye to friends who had visited. Behind the red blinking light was: "Could you all be quiet, I want to go to sleep!"

Traveling through Teenagehood

Robert Frost speaks of a 'road less traveled'. I often think of parenting this way. It's a journey that parents venture into without previous knowledge or experience. I remember when my second daughter was born I told the doctor that she wasn't eating as well as my first daughter had. He had been around to understand my question, even better than I did, at the time. He said, "throw the book away on the first...you get to start all over."

I remembered this advice throughout the years and began to accept that each experience with my daughters was as unique as they are. Sometimes, I wonder if they truly are biological sisters. Even though they share the same genes, their "jeans" are much different.

It reminds me of my youngest's question about genes. She was in second grade and asked if she was a twin. I said that she wasn't. She said that she had heard that everyone has a twin somewhere. I explained that there is a theory that everyone has someone that looks like them in the world, but that didn't make them twins. She thought about this quietly as we were driving to the library, to check out a book for a school project. I continued that in order to be twins you have to have the same genes, which means that her "twin" would have to be in our family.

As we walked from the car I noticed that she was thinking, and doubting what I was telling her. I asked her if she understood. She argued that "Girls at my school are twins, but they don't have the same jeans?" I asked her if she understood what genes are, and she nodded assuredly and said, "Yea," as she rubbed her thigh, "my pants."

So genes or "jeans" can be very different in a family. In my experience, like the good old doctor said, 'Throw the book away and start over!'

As I think about Robert Frost and his poem about traveling and taking the road less traveled I wonder about teenagers and their parents. So many of us travel down a road unaware and we go the path of many who went before us: We yell at our teens, we seem perplexed at their behavior, we are shocked at the disrespect. It seems we don't stop to consider the path or journey we travel and question if there are other trails to take.

My question today and throughout my blog is about the journeys you have taken with your teenagers. Have you done something that has made your travels less tiresome and rugged? Or maybe you've found yourself in heavy traffic...blindly doing what you think is common and "normal".

I have had my own battles and successes with child rearing. My oldest is 17 and so far we've maneuvered and navigated fairly well with some minor bumps and bruises. My other daughter is right behind, entering these tumultuous years. Unfortunately, what I may have gained from my first won't help this go around.

_Nina