It Gets Better

It's difficult for you right now. You feel hated and rejected and misunderstood by the people you love the most.  Sometimes you just don't know how you can live through one more day of it.  You feel all alone.

I'm here to tell you that I've been where you are, and to implore you to hold on.  Because it really does get better.

Yes, I'm talking to you, parents of pre-teens and teenagers.  I see you sharing your travails in Facebook.  Those children you love so much, for whom you would give your very life, now do not want to be seen with you in the supermarket.  They are deeply embarrassed by your very existence.  Even your most innocent attempts at everyday communications ("How was school today?", "Did you do your homework?") are met with eye rolls, heavy sighs, and monosyllabic grunts at best.

For me the trouble all started when my son was just nine (oh, yes, he was precocious) when he matter-of-factly looked up from his dinner to announce, "Snakes are lucky."

"Why is that?" I asked, sensing that I might not really want to know the answer.

"Because from the time they are born they don't need their parents for anything.  They are completely independent," he explained, wistfully.

So, it had come to this.  From my sweet affectionate little boy who had seemed so fond of me until now.  After all I had done for him, he just wanted to slither away, shedding me like some useless skin.  And it went downhill from there.

Just know that this is a typical and normal process for kids hitting their double digits to experience, and generations of parents before you have painfully experienced it along with them.  One bedraggled mother I knew had a theory that making teenagers so difficult is God's way of making it bearable for parents when they leave home.

Whatever, it is important to get support along the way.  The mothers of my sons' friends were a great group of ladies, and we all bonded over the years at t-ball  games and Boy Scout banquets.  By the time we were Band Mothers when our kids were in the marching band, we were seriously considering forming a support group called Parents of Teenagers.  The resulting acronym of P.O.T. gave us pause, and we hoped that would not prove TOO appropriate.  We abandoned the support group model entirely and went back to commiserating without organization.

But, whatever you do, don't give up.  Keep being your embarrassing parental self.  No matter how much they doth protest, your kids need and (deep down inside) want you to be there, asking those questions and cheering them on - taking videos of their extracurricular activities, and being there no matter how much they try to push you away.

One day, when they're 17, they might shock you by admitting you were right about something.   At some point, they go from resenting your Facebook Friendship, to openly recognizing and appreciating you on Facebook. The next thing you know, they are grown up, calling regularly, and suggesting a weekly Family Night where you all get together for dinner once a week.  Spending time with them is a joy.

And they are no longer ashamed to be seen with you in the supermarket, especially if you're paying.