The challenge of surviving teenagers
I often wonder if survival is possible living in a household with two teenage girls (well, one is almost a teen). I managed to get through one other daughter and a son so far, but some days I just don’t know if it is possible to comprehend the thought patterns and behaviors any longer.
I attempt to remember what it was like growing up with sisters and how we made perfect sense to each other and ourselves at that time. But I find myself more and more pitying my mother and holding her up for sainthood as she survived seven girls!
I often feel as if I am speaking a foreign language when I say something as simple as “Dinner’s ready” and I get “the look.” You know the one, the one that says “gross” or “don’t you know I am doing something right now.” Heaven forbid I go so far as to say “gather laundry,” “take the dogs out” or “please pick that up.” One would think the sky was falling simply by “the mother” asking the teen to do something.
While I make it sound as if these girls of mine are way out in left field somewhere, I must say they can be excellent conversationalists when it comes to their topics of conversation! I know more than I ever needed to know about One Direction, the terrible teachers on staff at the school and which boys or girls at said school are mean and opinionated. I simply have to show continuous interest in these topics (which of course, don’t often interest me in the least) to continue to have good favor in the eyes of my teens.
I also gain that good favor whenever there is a shopping trip involved, until I say no to one more pair of shoes or skinny jeans (whoever invented those things anyway?). Then I am the evil mother who does not warrant a word, but rather constant eye rolls.
It seems the older I get, the less I understand these teens. I made it through my first two and actually enjoy conversations with my 22-year-old and 20-year-old on a regular basis now. I assume I must just hold out hope that the inevitable saying of ‘this too shall pass’ comes to fruition with the next round of my children.
I know many of you must share these moments of eye rolls, unlimited knowledge and often pure disgust at moms having an opinion. Let’s not even throw in the role of dad in this equation who dare not physically touch their daughters in public! I ask you to join with me in survival mode over the next few years as we attempt to understand the ever-changing moods and actions of this delightful age. Live with the hope, as I do, that they do return again to human form and become loving offspring and even friends.