I quite like rules and boundaries and sometimes I enjoy breaking them. But one of the most challenging things about parenting teenagers for me is it is incredibly hard to hold onto to the rules, whatever they may be.
A few friends with older children had warned me this would happen. I smiled sweetly, never thinking it would happen to me. After all, when my children were little, (say, up to the age of 10) things were relatively straightforward.
They had good sleeping routines, set meals times where they ate what they were given and I took them everywhere – school runs, parties, sports fixtures.
And if I said something I would stick to it. My kids are good… but they have missed parties, outings, TV programmes because I said those fateful words, “If you do that again, you are not going to….” In those days it was easy to stick to my guns. And though I didn’t realise it, I was largely in control. I miss those days.
Many of my friends who have younger children, look at me in disbelief, when I tell them parenting gets harder. How much harder can it be than when you’re literally doing everything for your children?
I’m not for one second saying that the first ten years aren’t hard. They are. These times whilst fun and rewarding are exhausting, and relentless.
On the days you get it right, you are so proud of yourself and the days you don’t - you want to crawl into a ball and hide…Anyway, the point is parenting just gets harder. I’m sorry, but it does, in ways you cannot anticipate.
Friends who have children the same age as mine (16 and 18) nod their heads in sympathy when I recount a particular event. Most say, “Yep, been there…”The problem is I can’t decide whether I should be reassured that we are all in the same crazy boat, or whether I should dig my heels in and make a stand.
So, some of my problems are these.
Teenagers are big and quite strong. I can’t pick them up and put them somewhere and know they will stay.
They don’t pre plan, I am told of plans at the last minute. Actually I blame social networking for this. In my day, you spoke to people or phoned them on a landline. Plans were set.
If I ask my teenagers to do something like hang the washing out, or empty the dishwasher, they say, “I’ll do it later”. If I ask them to tidy their rooms, I am told, “I like my room like this.” That wouldn’t fly with my folks.
And my biggest problem is that as children get older, they get more independent. They look like adults on the outside, but can still be quite childlike on the inside.
I don’t mean this in a remotely patronizing way. They are still your babies, just really big, especially the boys. And as a mother of a 16 year-old boy, puberty really is an eye opening experience, even second hand.
Anyway, carrying on. If they want to go out and be back late, there are huge negotiations. In fact, I’m fooled into thinking they are negotiating. Mostly, they have decided and committed on that evening’s itinerary, I’m just being informed.
They think they can walk home at any time of night and be safe. They think it’s fine to go somewhere without leaving details in case of emergency.
And don’t get me started on keeping in touch.
Every parent I know of a teenager has to adapt at lightening speed. But in the days of text/imessage/Whats App/and Facebook – is it really that hard to let me know you have arrived at whathisface’s party??I can no longer say, “If you do A then B will happen” because it simply does not carry the same weight as it used to.
I can no longer enforce meal times because, there is late hockey training, or they are not hungry yet, or they have to go to Costa straightaway because a friend is having an emotional drama.
I write this with some trepidation, I was a much more wayward teenager than my two and their mates. And I know a teenager’s job is to push the boundaries and be those strong, intelligent, assertive people, we bring them up to be.
And maybe it is unreasonable of me, but I miss the days when saying, “Because I said so”, was the end of the conversation.
The rules have gone out of the window. I’m flying by the seat of my pants and am hanging onto what little control I have by the flimsiest threads…can you relate?